A TEIBUTE 

TO THE liE^rORY OF THE 

REY. JABEZ BUNTING, D.D. 



THE SERVANT OF HIS GENERATION. 



A TEIBUTE 

TO THE MEMORY OF THE 

EEY. JABEZ BUNTING, D.D. 

BEING A SERMON PREACHED ON THE OCCASION OF HIS 
DEATH, IN EASTBROOK CHAPEL, BRADFORD, 
YORKSHIRE, JULY 18TH, 1858 : 

WITH 

A SKETCH 

OF HIS 

CHARACTER AND SERYICES. 



BY ^3,,^:. 

EEEDEEICK J.^JOBSON, D.D. 



LONDON : 
HAMILTON, ADAMS, AND CO.; 
SOLD BY JOHN MASON, 14, CITY-ROAD, 
AND 66, PATERNOSTER-ROW. 



1858. 




EXTSRED AT STATIO>'EKS' HALL.] 



PKINTED BY WILLIAM NICHOLS, 
32, LOICDON ^VALL. 



f tilt 

EEY. WILLIAM MACLAEDIE BUXTING. 



My dear Sir, 

When the deep grave in the Methodist Cemetery of 
City Eoad, London^ had closed upon the mortal re- 
mains of your honoured father^ — and I looked around 
for one who should henceforward represent among us 
his name and house^ — my mind^ with the minds of 
thousands^ glanced immediately towards you. And 
now, when I have before me, for publication, my hum- 
ble tribute to his great memory ; and when I seek for 
one who shall be able to attest the substantial truth of 
what it contains, and who, while perceiving its mani- 
fold imperfections in form and manner, shall, in the 
strength of affection for the deceased, and in the 
generosity of a noble nature, kindly appreciate my 



Ti 



DEDICATION, 



motives^ — I cannot find any person so fully answering 
all my wishes as yourself. 

Allow^ then^ this public presentation to you of an 
unworthy record of your father^s virtues ; and accept 
it as from one whose happiness it was to witness the 
perpetual spring of joy which that father possessed in 
having a son of refined intelligence, and of devout 
evangelical faithfulness, so honourably associated with 
him in the holy ministry, — a son on whose deep 
reverence and devoted love he could surely lean, as he 
descended by slow and gentle steps to the grave. 

A¥ith sentiments of unfeigned respect and affection, 
I am ever, 

" Thine own friend, and 

thy father^s friend,^^ 

FEEDEEICK JAMES JOBSON. 

Queen Steeet Chapel, 
HuDDEESFiELD, November ^ 1858. 



REVERENCE and love for Dr. Bunting, "wliose 
intimate friendship it was my pririlege to enjoy, 
rendered the retracing of his character and labours 
a relief to my mind under the heavy sense of the 
loss I had sustained by his death. As the minister 



viii PREFATORY NOTICE. 

of a lo\ing people who revered his name^ and whom^ 
iu the course of ]\Iethodist itinerancy^ I was about 
to leave for another sphere of labour^ I was thus 
ready at their request to improve the event of Dr. 
Bunting^s death pubUcly with them. At their re- 
quest^ also^ I print what was delivered to them. 
One thought^ if it had been allowed full weighty 
would have prevented me doing so^^ — the con- 
sciousness of an inadequate and unworthy repre- 
sentation of my subject. Other considerations 
might have had the like tendency; namely^ that 
more deserving memorials have been already raised 
to the departed great one by abler and more experi- 
enced hands ; as well as the announcement formally 



PREFATORY NOTICE. ix 

made that^ in due time^ a full memoir of him 
is to be supplied to the world by his own 
gifted soUj j\Ir. Perciyal Buntings of ^lanchester. 
There is^ for instance^ the graphic sketch of him 
by the Rev. William Arthur^ first inserted in the 
Christian Times newspaper. There is the Pre- 
sidential portraiture of him^ effectively set forth by 
the Rev. Francis A. West before the Irish Confer- 
ence^ in Dublin^, and copied for us in our weekly 
journal. And since my discourse was delivered, there 
have been published^ not only the admirable Funeral 
Sermon preached for him by the Rev. Thomas 
Jackson in City Road Chapel^, London^ but also, 
officially in the Minutes of Conference,^' the just 



X PREFATORY NOTICE. 

and discriminating character of him from the pen 
of the Rev. Isaac Keeling. But^ bereft as I have 
been, by his death, of a father and a friend,— and 
feeling that there is, for me, henceforth in life a 
vacancy which can never be filled, — I cannot, with 
all these honourable memorials of him in view, deny 
myself the melancholy gratification of rearing my 
own slender column to so beloved a memory ; and I 
pray, while I do so, that my imperfect labour may 
be in some degree promotive of the Divine glory. 

To all acquainted with the disturbing influences 
and cares accompanying a Methodist minister's 
removal from one Circuit to another, I need not 



PREFATORY NOTICE. xi 

apologize for the delay which, has occuiTed in com- 
mitting the following pages to the press. 

F. J. J. 



SERMON. 



" For David, after he had served his own generation by the will of 
God, fell on sleep, and was laid unto his fathers, and saw 
corruption/' — Acts xiii. 36. 

How different are the reflections produced in the 
minds of the li^dng by the departure from earth of 
the righteous and the wicked; and how different 
are the feelings with which we contemplate the 
spiritual and eternal condition of the one and of the 
other ! Is it one of the gay^ thoughtless lovers of 
earthly pleasure who has departed this life? — one 
whose entrance into company was the sure signal for 
mutual congratulations and rejoicings^ and whose 
presence was accounted full and certain security 
from weariness and dulness ? Is he dead^ — the life 
of the evening party^ — the pride of the festive 
scene ? — he who was wont to kindle laughter among 

B 



2 



THE SERVANT OF HIS GENERATION, 



his companions^ and to keep the table in a roar? 
Then you must not make more than a distant 
allusion to his name among his sm*viving com- 
panions ; for he has gone fi^om their companionship 
to the dark house of the grave^ where the worm is 
feeding upon him; and there are remembrances of 
ill-spent time and talents that but ill consort with 
the final account he has to render before God^ and 
with his eternal state. The thought of his death 
brings a skeleton into his vacant place at their 
feasts : his volatile and jovial character they cannot 
bear to think upon with the serious fact before them 
that he is now in the world of spirits ; and therefore 
they shun his memory. 

Or suppose the departed heritor of humanity has 
been one who devoted himself to worldly and selfish 
objects; who gave himself to the ceaseless pursuit 
of hard grinding gain ; who was the leader in the 
market ; who doubled his riches over and over again 
during his life-time ; who got all he could^ kept all 
he got^ and closed his heart against all appeals made 
to him for charity and benevolence? Is he — the 



THE SERVANT OF HIS GENERATION. 



3 



man of weal tlx and of the world — dead ? Then you 
will find that they who knew him converse sparingly 
and hastily concerning him ; and that when they 
have summed up his worth in riches^ they pass from 
the mention of him to the inheritors of his fortune. 
They do not attempt to carry the account concerning 
him further; for it will not bear investigation and 
reflection. 

And then again in relation to the man of mere 
morality and external virtue^ — while his friends dwell 
for a few moments with seeming complacency on the 
daily routine of his existence^ and speak of its regu- 
larity and order^ — how soon they come to a stand- 
stilly a sort of paralysis of speech ! and their looks^ 
coupled with their serious silence^ proclaim to you 
that their attempt at praise has been a consciously 
lame apology for the want of real spirituality in the 
man, and that they have at heart an appalling fear 
that all is not well with him in the eternal world. 

But how different the feelings and sentiments of 
survivors at the death of good and faithful servants 
of the Lord, who lived for the glory of God and the 

B 3 



4 



THE SERTAXT OF HIS GENERATION. 



welfare of mankind ! Tlieir death is not a subject 
to be shunned. The remembrance is not painful^ 
either of their life on earthy or of their state in the 
spiritual world. Is it the devoted^ laborious^ useful 
Christian who is dead ? Then no one of his friends 
speaks of him with bated breathy or whispers his 
name in a corner, as if afraid to mention it. He 
may be spoken of with the tear of affection^ but it 
will be also with the kindling smile of holy triumph 
and rejoicing. So far from shunning his memory, 
his friends delight to recall it. With pleasure they 
re-picture the expression of his countenance,, they 
dwell upon the tones of his voice, and especially 
upon the words he uttered, the truths he main- 
tained, and the deeds he performed ; and they are 
stimulated thereby to imitate his blessed example. 
If he died young, having been a labourer but for a 
short time in the vineyard of his Lord, then there 
is the tender and joyous recollection that he escaped 
by his short day many trials and sufferings, and 
went early to his reward. If he lived onward to old 
age and grey hairs, then there is the more abundant 



i 

j 

THE SERVANT OF HIS GENERATION. 5 

satisfaction in the thought^ that lie improved his 
lengthened opportunity for doing good in the world j 
that he came down to his grave as a shock of corn 
fully ripe for the heavenly garner^ and that he now 
enjoys the fulness of the saint^s reward. If he 
served his generation by the will of God^ and then 
fell asleep^ we think of him with veneration and 
gratitude ; and we associate him in our remembrances 
with the blessed dead who die in the Lord. Such 
was the association in the mind of the holy apostle 
St. Paul^ when^ referring to David in his sermon 
at Antioch^, he said^ For David^ after he had served 
his own generation by the will of God^ fell on sleep, 
and was laid unto his fathers^ and saw corruption.^^ 

Such is the difterence of men^s reflections, 
whether on an ill-spent or well-spent hfe of 
one deceased. But reflection, to be profitable, 
must not be merely temporary. Indeed, thought 
does not deserve the name of reflection, if it last 
but for a few brief moments, and then be dismissed 
and forgotten. True reflection consists of those 



6 



THE SERVANT OF HIS GENERATION. 



weighty and deliberate and often-resumed acts of 
the mind which impress the heart and influence the 
will. And our reflections during the service in 
which we are now engaged ought to lead to self- 
application. We are met to commemorate the de- 
parture of one who served his generation by the will 
of God with ability^ zeal^ and efficiency which few 
men^ in any age, have equalled. And duly to im- 
prove the sorrowful event^ we ought to think not 
only of him, but also of the practical lessons which 
his great example supplies. If we fail to do so, our 
service, with all its solemnity, will be sinfully defec- 
tive. If that clear and powerful voice which was 
heard from this pulpit at the opening of this chapel, 
were now to speak to us from out the silence of 
eternity, it would say, Praise not the dead ; but 
preach for the benefit of the living ! Let us, then, 
endeavour to improve this event religiously; and, 
before we proceed to speak of the departed himself, 
try to learn the Scripture lessons which the text 
brings home to us. 

I. We may observe that it teaches us the great 



THE SERVANT OF HIS GENERATION. 7 

moral end of man^s probationary life : to ^^ serve his 
generation by the will of God/^ 

II. It presents for our consideration tbe state of 
calm and blissful repose wliich awaits all faitbfal 
servants of God at the end of their course,, — and 
that^ notwithstanding the inevitable and humiliating 
circumstances of death and the grave : they fall 
on sleep^ are laid unto their fathers^ and see 
corruption.''^ 

EiRST^ then^ we are to learn from this passage 
of Holy Scripture^ the great moral end of 

MAN^S PROBATIONARY LIFE : hc is tO SCIWC his 

generation by the will of God.^^ 

And we are ready to believe that there are few 
persons so utterly immersed in the cares of the 
world and in forgetfulness^ as to have no passing 
solicitude for their spiritual position and destiny. 
Amidst the perpetual whirl of excitement which 
characterizes our time^ there are yet few who have 
no moments for reflection upon whence they c^me, 
what they are doings and whither they are hastening. 



8 



THE SERVANT OF HIS GENERATION. 



The daily occurrences of life and deatli_, as well as 
the record of past generations who have lived and 
died upon the earthy we should say^ would prompt 
to this; for how can beings who know that they 
are to live hereafter see those who set out with them 
in the career of life pass one after another from the 
stage of visible existence^ and not reflect at all upon 
such serious facts ? No : thoughtless as mankind 
are^ still there are times when the human spirit 
enters into its inner chamber^ shuts the doors 
around it^ and asks^ What am I ? what am I doing 
here ? and why has my lot been cast at this age of 
the worlds and in this part of it ? 

Sometimes^ when men think of the past^ and see 
how change and ruin have overtaken all things ; how 
the generations of mankind have disappeared and 
others arisen ; how the works of men have perished^ 
populous cities become silent^ and the names of many 
have been obliterated^ — they are ready to say^ Of 
what avail is character,, or conduct^ during the few 
days of our continuance in this changeful and dying 
world? Soon we^ too^ shall have departed from 



THE SERVANT OF HIS GENERATION. 9 

earthy and be numbered among the forgotten of 
mankind: let as live for self-gratification and pre- 
sent indulgence : ^ Let ns eat and drink^ for to- 
morrow we die!^^^ The record of the text corrects 
such melancholy and despairing reflections ; it 
teaches us that we have each an important service 
to perform to om* contemporaries^ — to the generation 
of our time. It teaches us that we have a mission 
from God which invests life with real importance 
and value. At the same time it presents to us en- 
couraging motives to faithfulness ; for the usefulness 
of holy and benevolent men shall be eternized^ not 
by crumbling marble monuments^ but by the im- 
perishable results of the benefits they have conferred 
upon mankind. It teaches us that we are not a race 
of isolated and independent beings^ sent to live a 
while on the earth without an object and without a 
mission; but that we have each our place and 
sphere of action^ as well as the time of om* life and 
labours^ assigned us by Divine Providence ; that^ like 
John the Baptist^ we have to fulfil our com^se; like 
David^ we have to serve our own generation by the 



10 THE SERVANT OF HIS GENERATION. 

will of God ; and that^ like Chiist^ we have to work 
the works of Him tliat sent us^ and to finish the 
work He has given ns to do. 

And this is^ indeed_, a powerful reflection^ when it 
fully possesses and fills the mind. It impresses men 
with the conviction of the true use of life^ and with 
the fact of its great responsibility. It teaches man 
that he has not come into existence bv chance, and 
fallen into his position by accident ; but by the 
direct and immediate appointment of God. It 
teaches him that the religion which he is to have 
and to manifest is not one which is selfish^ but 
which is benevolent and serviceable to mankind. 
It does not unfold the religion of a recluse in the 
desert^ or in the monastery ; but the rehgion that 
shall be effective in the home-dweUing^ in the street^ 
and in the market-place. It does not present to us 
the pictui^e of a sickly^ tender flower^ which must be 
set in a nook and sheltered in a corner^ lest it should 
fade in the sun or fall in the breeze; but a hardy^ 
healthful plants that shall bear the storms and heat 
of hfe. It does not set before us a rehgion which 



THE SERVANT OF HIS GENERATIOX. 11 

shuns the world because sinners are there^ but 
"which goes into the highways and hedges to find 
them and compel them to come in : a religion which 
goes about doing good^ and which seeks to save 
them that are lost. It does not recommend to us 
a religion which employs itself only in building 
sepulchres for the dead of past generations^ or in 
drawing out fanciful schemes for the use of future 
generations^ but which serves its own generation by 
the will of God. 

In a wide and extensive sense^ ^''our own gene- 
ration^^ may be viewed as an expression compre- 
hending all mankind who are living at the same 
age and period with ourselves^ — all our contem- 
poraries^ and that of all parts of the earth. For 
we are all of one family^ having common ties and 
sympathies. God has made of one blood all the 
nations of the earth.-'^ And by creating at the 
first one common father of mankind^ God intended 
that each human beings as he came into life^ 
should feel himself related to all the rest; and 
that he should have a perpetual consciousness of 



12 THE SERVANT OF HIS GENERATIOX. 

obligation to promote their welfare. Mankind are 
to serve one another. Xot as slaves^ in bondage 
and by compulsion^ but freely and voluntarily^ and 
that for each other^s benefit. For man to seize 
his feUow man^ bind him in chains^ and force him 
under the lash to serve^ is an enormous outrage 
which God will not fail to punish on that day 
when He shall make inquisition for blood. We 
are to be mutually serviceable to each other^ and 
that both for our bodies and our souls; we are to 
visit and relieve each other in affliction and dis- 
tress; we are to bear one another^s bm'dens^ and 
so fulfil the law of Christ. And this duty is 
binding upon all of us^ and that without dis- 
tinction of colour or tribe. The white man is to 
serve the black man^ as well as the black man 
serve the white man. Indeed^ it is in order that 
we may be mutually helpful to each other that we 
are placed together in the world at the same time. 
And such are the fixed and unalterable laws of 
mutual dependence and influence that^ whether as 
nations or individuals^ we must obey these lawS; or 



THE SERVANT OE HIS GENERATION. 



13 



we cannot prosper. Xo nation advances in civili- 
zation that does not hold intercourse with other 
nations. Xo kingdom is prosperous and safe 
where the several classes stand apart^ and at a 
sullen distance from each other. Trade will not 
flourish^ if the employer and the employed do not 
serve each other. There is no such thing as abso- 
lute independence in the world. Capital must be 
trusted to circulation^ in order to increase j and 
rich men are as dependent upon the poor for 
labour as poor men are dependent upon the rich 
for employment, Xo family has comfort where 
the several members are disunited^ and refuse to 
serve each other ; and the selfish man who should 
resolve to stand aloof from his fellow creatures^ 
and never to serve them^ must be sadly forgetful 
of the fact^ that he must soon perish^ if others 
were to resolve thus never to serve him. It is the 
will of God, shown by the laws which govern man- 
kind^ as well as by the commands and precepts of 
Holy Scripture^ that we should serve our generation. 
But the phrase^ served his own generation,^^ 



14 



THE SERVANT OF HIS GENERATION'. 



must be understood as having also a more defi- 
nite and pointed meaning than that of serving 
mankind at large. David had a special service to 
perform for Israel. — service for his own generation^ 
— service which he faithfully perfonned. He had 
to deliver his generation from the terrors into 
which the gigantic champion of then' enemies 
threw them, and to free them from the threatened 
thraldom of their insulting foes. He had to estab- 
lish them in the worship and service of God^ and 
to reign over them in righteousness. And in all 
this he so faithfuUy served that he is described by 
inspiration as '''the man after God's own heart/*'' 
and is declared to have been perfect, ''''save in the 
matter of Uriah the Hittite.*' For this service he 
had been fitted and prepared by great natm'al 
endowments^, and by the unwonted circumstances 
through which he had passed. Gifted with the 
highest poetic genius^ and having learned gentle- 
ness from his flocks^ and courage from conflict 
with the lion and the bear, he was specially quali- 
fied to fight with Goliath of the Phihstines: to 



THE SERVANT OF HIS GENERATION. 15 

sing sucli inspired songs tliat^ Trhile lie struck the 
harp with his hand^ they should soothe the evil 
spirit of the king ; and to furnish such an opulent 
treasury of musical thought to his people as should 
infuse the spirit of harmonious worship among 
them^ and build up the kingdom of Jehovah in 
Israel. This he did : he served his own generation 
by the will of God. 

Not that he served his own generation exclu- 
sively ; for by what he did for it he has served all 
succeeding generations of mankind. Who does 
not bless the name of David, the primal minstrel 
in the church of God? He is now, as ever_, 
^^the sweet singer of Israel.^^ T\Tio has not found 
the harp of the son of Jesse to soothe him, and 
to drive away from him the evil spirit? And 
who has not joyfully employed the Psalmist^s joy- 
ful words to express before the Lord praises and 
thanksgivings? Some men, by what they do, not 
only serve their own generation, but also the 
generations of mankind in all ages that follow. 
It was so with the Prophets and Apostles ; it was 



16 THE SERVANT OF HIS GENERATION. 

SO with the Martyrs and Confessors ; it was so 
with Wycliffe and Luther ; it was so with Cover- 
dale and Tyndale^ and the other translators of the 
Bible ; it was so with Jewell and ChiLlingworth; 
and the other great champions of Protestantism 
against Popery; it was so with Butler and Paley. 
and the other great defenders of the truth against 
infidelity ; it was so with John Bunyan and Isaac 
Watts^ who wrote^ the one his transcendent ^"Pil- 
grim^s Progress/^ and the other his incompai^able 
hvmns for little children: it was so with TTesley 

t> * V 

and Whitefield^ and other great active laboui'ers in 
the vineyard of the Lord; it was so with Howard 
and Clarkson^ with Wilberforce and Buxton^ who 
expended their energies in the gi'eat cause of phi- 
lanthropy; it was so with Jabez Bunting himself. 
All these were emphatically servants of their own 
generation; they sought to instruct, to rescue, 
and to benefit the men of theii' own age ; and still 
the results of theii^ service run on now^ and will 
run on throughout all time. Xot that they labom^ed 
ambitiously for posterity^ and for theii^ own fame 



THE SERVANT OF HIS GENERATION. 17 

in generations to come. Their commanding^ their 
instant object was in their own day to work for 
those who were breathing and Kving around them^ 
and of whose especial wants they were the sympa- 
thizing witnesses. Perhaps^ their own generation 
misunderstood and persecuted them. It was so in 
the case of Columbus^ who opened the gates of the 
Atlantic for the world ; it was so in the case of 
Galileo^ who declared the movement of the planet- 
ary system ; it was so with Harvey^ who discerned 
the circulation of the blood in the human system ; 
and it was so with many other great benefactors 
of mankind. Yet they proclaimed their discoveries 
and thus served their own generation^ while they 
left them for the benefit of generations that should 
follow. They studied^ or taught^ or toiled^ for 
mankind in their own day; though the influence 
of what they did extended onwards to the far 
future. They did their own allotted work^ and did 
not strain after distant projects ; they did good as 
they had opportunity; they worked while it is 
called to-day ; they performed what was immediately 

c 



18 THE SERVANT OF HIS GENERATION. 

assigned tliem by Divine Providence for the service 
of mankind. 

And we greatly err if we think that any of us 
have no appointed service to render to our own 
generation. It is not by chance that we have our lot 
of existence cast just upon this particular age^ and 
not at some period sooner or later in the progress 
of time. It is not by accident that we are denizens 
of this part of the world rather than of any other. 
Every human being has his ordained life at an 
especial time^ and in an especial place^ that he 
may perform an especial work there and then. To 
suppose otherwise^ would be to suppose that there 
is less Divine oversight for the intelligent part of 
creation than for the unintelligent ; it would be to 
conclude that the earth with its order^ and beauty^ 
and seasonable fruitfulness_, is more under the im- 
mediate control and direct government of God 
than mankind^ for whom the earth and its seasons^ 
and its produce^ were created and ordained. He 
ordereth all that is. There is an appointed 
time to man upon the earth. Our times are 



THE SERVANT OF HIS GENERATION. 19 

in His hands^ both as to coming and going ; 
and that whether we die in youth^ manhood^ or 
old age. There are no accidents/^ strictly speak- 
ings cutting short the life of man. He who observes 
the fall of every sparrow to the ground has num- 
bered our months and our moments^ and fixed the 
bounds of our life^ which we cannot pass. He says to 
one^ Go/' and he goeth ; to another^ Come/^ and 
he Cometh. He setteth the solitary in families : He 
appoints the bounds of our habitations. He gives 
us each our station and our work^ that we may 
serve our ow?i generation by His will. 

And not only so^ but every age has its service 
to be performed^ and its servitors. We do not 
mean that man is the mere creature of circum- 
stances, and that he is made by his age^ rather 
than that his age is marked and impressed by him. 
Many an age has called for service which has not 
been rendered : the renderer has not been found. 
A truly great man, whose name becomes identified 
with any particular age^ goes before his fellows, 
and does not merely stand abreast with them. It 

c 2 



20 



THE SERVANT OF HIS GENERATION. 



is true there are circumstances favourable to liim^ 
which he wields and improves by his superior 
power : but Luther would never have reformed the 
Churchy nor Wesley have revived religion in this 
land_, if either had waited until the age was con- 
sidered ready for them. Their own generation was 
not prepared to receive them : hence the persecu- 
tion they endured. Enoch and Noah had to 
perform their peculiar service : they were to be 
preachers of righteousness to a corrupt generation. 
Abraham had his peculiar service : he was the 
depository of Divine truth in an idolatrous genera- 
tion. Moses and Joshua had their peculiar service : 
the one to deliver his own generation from the 
bondage of Egypt^ and the other to bring Israel 
to the promised land. David and Solomon had 
their peculiar service : it was to exalt the throne 
and worship of Jehovah among the chosen people. 
The Prophets had their peculiar service : it was to 
foretel the coming and the reign of Messiah. Ezra 
and Nehemiah had their peculiar service : it was 
to restore the worship of God at Jerusalem after 



THE SERVANT OF HIS GENERATION. 21 

the Captivity. Jolm th.e Baptist had Ms peculiar 
service: it was to herald the glorious advent of 
the Saviour, The Divine Redeemer had His pecu- 
liar service: it was to finish the work which His 
Father had given Him to do. The Apostles had 
their peculiar service : it was to preach the Gospel 
to all nations. The Martyrs had their peculiar 
service: it was to seal the truth with their blood. 
Our Lollard and Protestant forefathers in this 
country had their pecuKar service : it was to resist 
the yoke and break down the pretensions of Rome. 
Our Puritan forefathers had their peculiar service: 
it was to break away the lingering attachment to 
Rome of Laud and his coadjutors. Our fathers in 
Methodism had their peculiar service: it was to 
call back Protestantism to its purity^ by preaching 
salvation through faith in Christ, and by enduring 
persecution, while they employed strenuous efforts 
to spread scriptural holiness through the land. They 
had to establish Missions and Schools. And we 
have our peculiar service : it is to serve our own 
generation and the times in which we live. 



22 



THE SERVANT OF HIS GENERATION. 



I do not mean that we are to attempt new means 
and expedients to meet what are described as the 
signs of the times There is^ undoubtedly^ too 
great an eagerness to seize upon characteristic fea- 
tures^ or upon what are viewed as characteristic fea- 
tures of an age^ and to shape service to them and for 
them. Men seem moonstruck with the new forms 
and phases of society^ and demand that the Church 
shall adapt itself to the said forms and phases. And 
to hear what is sometimes spoken^ inanely and de-^ 
spairingly^ of the wants of the age^ and of the ex» 
hausted power of divinely appointed means^ one would 
suppose that Christianity had become infirm^ decre- 
pit^ paralytic! The very pulpit must be removed, 
to give way to the platform ; the most grotesque titles 
for subjects^ and the most ontree slang phraseology^ 
must be employed in the place of inspired texts of 
Scripture; and public prayer^ as well as praise to 
God^ must be omitted^ to take^ as it were by guile^ 
the working classes of the nation. But human 
nature in its essential principles^ the Gospel of the 
Son of God in its plainness and simplicity^ as a 



THE SERVANT OF HIS GENERATION. 23 

remedy for man^s fallen condition^ and the necessity 
of the Holy Spirit^s power to save^ are the same now 
as they were eighteen hundred years ago j and the man 
who shall leave the old paths of usefulness^ and shape 
his means to meet what are said to be the wants of 
the times/^ — and that under the notion that divinely 
instituted means for reaching the human heart will not 
suit the present generation as well as others^ — will find^ 
sooner or later^that he has committed a capital blunder. 

There is a work which loe are to work in our 
day^ and which belongs to us in the age in which 
we live. We are not to think that if we had lived 
in an earlier or later period^ or in some other part 
of the world^ or if we had lordly wealthy or leisurely 
and cushioned retirement^ we could more effectually 
serve our generation. It is in our own present station^ 
condition^ and circumstances, that we are appointed 
to serve mankind. Nor need there be any difficulty 
in learning what the service required of us is. We 
have only to consider our relative position^ and the 
wants of our fellow-creatures^ to ascertain this. Are 
you a Minister? Then wait on yom^ ministry. 



24 THE SERVANT OF HIS GENERATION. 

Are you a teaclier? Then wait on your teaching. 
Are you a master ? Then seek the welfare of your 
servants. Are you a servant? Then serve your 
master in singleness of your hearty as unto Christ. 
Are you a parent? Then bring up your children 
in the nurture and admonition of the Lord. Are 
you a child ? Then love and obey your parents. 
Are you rich ? Then honour the Lord with your 
substance^ and with the first fruits of all your in- 
crease. Are you poor ? Then be diligent and 
frugal^ and trust in the God of the poor for the 
supply of all your wants. Are you a member of 
the Church of Christ ? Then consider the spiritual 
wants of the world : think of Heathenism abroad, 
and of sin and ignorance at home. Think of the 
sin of sabbath-breaking. Think how open, shame- 
less, vile intemperance and impurity flaunt them- 
selves in the streets of our metropolis and in the 
thoroughfares of our principal cities and towns. 
Think how scepticism and atheism present their 
front of defiance in London and in our manufac- 
turing towns. Think of the swarms of sensualists 



THE SERVANT OF HIS GENERATION. 



25 



and of poor fallen females in every great town of 
England, Scotland, and Ireland. Think of those 
moral sinks and moral common sewers, the casinoes, 
the penny concerts, and the penny gaffs of our 
great towns. Think of the unevangelized ignorance 
and low brutality of our multitudinous villages. 
Think of the sick and the dying poor in the count- 
less alleys, squares, and rows, of our cities and 
boroughs. Think of the uninstructed, who, in their 
cellars and attics, would be thankful if experienced 
Christians would go to them, and read the word of 
life, and pray with them. Think of Sabbath School, 
Day School, Tract Distribution, and Benevolent So- 
ciety institutions. No one who desires to know the 
will of God in serving his generation can be at a 
loss to ascertain what that service should be. If 
any ask sincerely, with Saul of Tarsus, Lord, what 
wilt Thou have me to do?^^ the hand of Provi- 
dence, the wants of his generation, and the demands 
of the various enterprises of benevolence and phi- 
lanthropy before him, will indicate to him the path 
of duty. And in doing that which God gives him 



26 THE SERVANT OF HIS GENERATION. 




to do^ he shall^ most surely^ see his service crowned 
with the Divine blessing. 

We must^ however^ have definite principles and 
rules of action^ if we are to become faithful and 
successful performers of appointed service. T>^e 
must^ for instance^ have those definite principles 
of real religion_, — love to God and love to man. It 
is the generation of the upright whom God 
blesses^ and whom He employs^ instrumentally^ to 
save a ''^ wicked^ perverse^ and faithless generation.''* 
There must be in us that which we, recommend 
others to obtain^ or it may be fitly said to us_, Phy- 
sician_, heal thyself! There must be godly prin- 
ciple to influence and sustain us^ or we shall flag 
and fail in our object. The basis of our action 
must not be loose^ and vague^ and floating ; if it 
be, we shall not succeed. If we are to be true 
and effective workers^ we must not be in love with 
that indefiniteness and latitudinarianism which some 
so much laud in our day^ under the name of 

catholicity.^^ Paul would have done little for 
Christianity^ if he had viewed the rationalism of 



I ^ THE SERVANT OF HIS GENERATION. 27 

Athens with indulgence^ and had shrank from de- 
nouncing its idolatry. Luther would have done as lit- 
I tie as Erasmus for the overthrow of Popery^, if he had 
only timorously recommended that some of its more 
vulgar excrescences should be removed, and that it 
should be afresh painted and gilded^ instead of lift- 
ing the weighty hammer of God^s word to break 
the corrupt idol in pieces. And your own Wesley 
would have done little^ if he had sought^ like some 
men high in the Church in the present times^ 
merely to revive obsolete forms and ceremonies. 
Men accomplish little if they have not deep con- 
Wctions of duty. If we are to proclaim truths we 
must be clear in our own minds as to what is truth. 
If the trumpet give an uncertain sounds who shall 
arm himself for the battle ? 

Again : there must be clevotedness to duty. The 
mind must be supremely set upon one object; and 
that must be^ not to win the honour which comes 
from man^ but to serve our own generation by the 
will of God. He who runs with two goals in view, 
runs nowhere : he who aims at two marks^ hits 



28 THE SERVANT OF HIS GENERATION. 




neither. There must be oneness of purpose, single- 
ness of eye, purity of motive. The man who cannot 
labour in the Church without resolutions, that the 
thanks of this meeting be given unto him/^ without 
notices in the newspapers^ or laudations and com- 
mendations from those around him, is not the man 
for sterling usefulness. Honour may come to the 
devoted servant of God in his course : most probably 
it will; but he must not seek it primarily: that 
would unfit him for the Master^s use. Like the 
Son of Man, he is to minister, and not to seek to 
be ministered unto : he is to become great among his 
brethren by being the servant of all. The true 
nobility of disinterestedness and self-forgetfulness 
distinguishes the men who in sincerity serve their 
generation by the will of God. Hence the phrase 
employed in the text to describe David^s usefulness 
literally signifies, to serve as an under-rower in a 
galley. It signifies to take the lowest tier in the 
bark of his times, and to ply the oar with the arm 
of one devoted to labour. The reason why there 
are so many miserable wrecks of character and 



THE SERVANT OF HIS GENERATION. 29 

purpose floating around us^ both in tlie Church 
and the worlds is^ that men are not willing to take 
the place of under-rowers^ of servants beneath. 
They must be on deck for show : they must have 
hold of the helm_, however unfits and be seen to be 
in the place of rule and power. It is service_, real 
service^ old Methodist service^ old Puritan^ old Pro- 
testant^ old Christian service^ self-denying sendee, 
that is really wanted for the Church in our times ; 
service such as gave to our jMethodist forefathers 
that breadth and weight of character which they 
possessed^ and made them memorable in their use- 
fulness. Not dainty and delicate ser\ace, such as 
some of their children would perform. Not service 
that picks its steps in the streets^ and visits the 
respectable, and cleanly^ and orderly poor, — and 
such kind of poor only. But service that is not 
afraid of hail, rain, or snow ; that dares to traverse 
the unswept streets and the filthy alleys, to enter 
the dusty school-room, to climb the naked garret, 
or descend the obnoxious cellar, in order to save 
souls from death. This is the service which, if 



30 THE SERVANT OF HIS GENERATION. 

performed in dependence on God^ shall really 
succeed. 

And again : there must be energy and perseverance. 
The hand of the under-rower must ply the oar_, 
not only in the calm, but against wind and tide. 
It is said proverbially, that the winds and waves 
are always on the side of the ablest navigators.^^ 
And it is true that a man of energy usually makes 
all things, however uncontrollable by others, submit 
to himself. Everybody knows that the man of deci- 
sion will act ; and, knowing this, the crowd opens 
for him, so that he finds an easy passage where 
the doubting and timid man can make no way at 
allc He who fears that a lion is in the path will 
be sure to find one ; but when the man of energy 
does not see a path open to him by favourable and 
adventitious circumstances, he cuts it open for him- 
self. If there were as many devils in the city 
of W orms as there are tiles on the houses, yet would 
I go thither,^^ said the lion-hearted Luther, when 
his friends endeavoured to dissuade him from risking 
his life before the Emperor and the Pope^s Legate, 



THE SERVANT OF HIS GENERATION. 



31 



in that city. And he went onward^ in spite of 
opposition and threats^ defending and proclaiming 
the truth^ until Protestantism divided Europe 
against Popery. Courage^ my brother/^ said 
valiant old Latimer to his younger fellow-martyr^ 
Ridley^ as they were about to be consumed in the 
flames at Oxford: ^^we shall this day light up a 
candle that shall never be extinguished in England 
And his dying prophecy shall be fulfilled, 0^ for 
a restoration to the Church of such service as holy 
Latimer^ s^ and as gallant Luther^ s ! It is energy^ 
it is resolute^ determined service^ which the Church 
needs at present ; and God send it among us ! And 
not only energetic seindce^ but persevering service 
ought to characterize us. We must ply the oar 
among the brave-hearted under-rowers day by 
day_, and hour by hour. Not one failui^e^ nor a 
hundred^ nor a thousand^ must dishearten us. We 
must toil on amidst all difficulty^ all distress^ all deser- 
tion^ all reproach, — looking onward to oui' heavenly 
home ; for there is a rest that remainetli for the 
people of God;^^ and the prospect of it should 



33 THE SERVANT OF HIS GENERATION. 

hearten us in onr labour^ and stimulate ns to per- 
severe in serving our generation by the will of God. 

Secondly^ then, let us contemplate, as motive 
for service, the calm and blissful repose which 

AWAITS ALL FAITHFUL SERVANTS OF GoD AT THE END 
OF THEIR COURSE ; AND THAT, NOTWITHSTANDING THE 
INEVITABLE AND HUMILIATING CIRCUMSTANCES OF 

DEATH AND THE GRAVE : they fall OH slecp, and are 
laid to their fathers, while their flesh sees corruption.^^ 
This peaceful end, and this association with the 
great and the good, were realized by David when 
he had served his generation by the will of God, 
as the Old Testament historians record, (1 Chron. 
xxix. ; 1 Kings ii.,) and as here declared by St. 
Paul. The scene, as it is described by the Old 
Testament historians, is thrillingly expressive. 
David blessed the Lord, and blessed the people; 
and having his hearths desire in the accession to 
the tlirone of his son Solomon, he calmly and 
peacefully laid himself down in his bed to sleep, 
after his life of arduous and faithful service; and 



THE SERVANT OF HIS GENERATION. 



33 



then ttey gave him honourable burial with the 
men of renown^ and his flesh saw corruption. 
Such is the case with all faithful labourers. They 
can calmly review their life of toil ; they do not 
start back alarmed at the approach of death ; they 
have ^^no panic when the last messenger comes; 
but^ like the healthful and satisfied labourer^ they 
lie down in their bed^ and fall asleep in Christ ; 
and their friends^ venerating their memory^ give 
them honourable burial^ and associate them in 
thought with the great and the good of the 
spiritual world. 

And how significant of their calm and tranquil re- 
pose at the end of their life^ both with regard to the 
soul and the body^ is the emblem of sleep here em- 
ployed ! It may relate,, more immediately^ to the 
body sleeping in the grave ; for we see a wondrous 
resemblance between death in its physical aspect and 
them that sleep in their beds. How often^ when 
viewing the dead in Christy with the last lingering 
smile of assured safety still upon the countenance, 
have we been ready to say^ He is not dead, but 

D 



34 THE SERVANT OF HIS GENERATION. 

sleepeth ! But the term is signally descriptive of 
the Christianas view of death : it is emphatically 
the Gospel representation of death. The Lord 
Jesus Christ has triumphed over death for man; 
has stripped the grim king of his terrors; and 
thus to the Christian death is only cessation from 
suffering and labour : it is sleep, and that upon 
the Saviour^s own bosom. It is not cessation 
from consciousness^ until the resurrection; for 
there is no such sleep of the soul awaiting the 
servant of God. ^^To be absent from the body 
is to be present with the Lord.-^^ — To depart and 
to be with Christ is far better.''^ There is no in- 
terval of suspended life, — ^not a sand-fall of time, — 
not an instant between falling asleep in death and 
waking up to the conscious possession of that in- 
heritance which is ^^incorruptible, undefiled, and 
which fadeth not away.^^ To fall asleep, in the 
meaning of Scripture, is to cease from labour and 
affliction, from pain and sorrow, and to enter upon 
eternal rest. Hence Christ said of the brother of 
Martha and Mary, whom He afterwards declared to 



THE SERVANT OF HIS GENERATION. 



35 



be positively dead^ Our friend Lazarus sleepeth/^ 
And of Stephen^ the first Christian martyr^ who 
sank down into death under stoning from his 
murderous persecutors^ it is said^ He fell asleep/^ 
It is the traveller come to the end of his journey_, 
and resting in his heavenly home; it is the 
mariner escaped from lifers storms and tempests^ 
and safe within the unruffled harbour of security 
and repose ; it is the soldier putting off his helmet 
and corslet^ his spear and shield_, to rest in peace^ 
free from all the alarums of war. I heard a voice 
from heaven/^ says the holy Apostle^ when describing 
to us what he learned through the open door of 
Divine revelation^ saying. Write, Blessed are the 
dead which die in the Lord from henceforth : Yea, 
saith the Spirit, that they may rest from their 
labours; and their works do follow thenio'-' There 
the wicked cease from troubling; and there the 
weary be at rest.^^ 

But who does not perceive that the term slcep,^^ 
as applied to the pious dead, is expressive, not 
only of calm and tranquil repose, but also of 

D 2 



36 THE SEKTAXT OF HIS GEXERATIOX. 

security and confidence? Men under a sense 
of insecurity do not lie down to sleep : thought 
of danger prevents their taking rest in sleep. But 
to sleep in Christ is to be safe in the keeping of 
Him who has the keys of hell and deaths — of the 
world of spirits and of the grave : it is to know 
that none shall pluck them out of His hands ; and 
that neither deaths nor life^ nor angels^ nor prin- 
cipalities^ nor powers^ nor things present^ nor 
things to come, nor height, nor depth, nor any 
other creature, shall be able to separate them from 
the love of God which is in Christ Jesus our 
Lord/^ And who that falls asleep in his bed does 
not expect to awake again ? So believes the Chris- 
tian, — that he shall awake up in the presence and 
after the likeness of Christ, and be invested with 
honour and dignity that shall never pass away. 
'^Them also which sleep in Jesus will God bring 
with Him/^ And before they who shall be living 
upon the earth at the coming of the Saviour shall 
ascend to meet Him, buried saints shall rise, that 
they may be caught up together with them in the 



THE SEEVAXT OF HIS GENERATION. 37 

clouds^ to meet the Lord in the air ; for tlie dead 
in Christ shall rise first/^ ^^"We know that, ^yhen 
He shall appear, we shall be like Him : for we shall 
see Him as He is/^ ^^And as we have borne the 
image of the earthy, we shall also bear the image 
of the heavenly/^ Such is the -^ snre and certain 
hope of the servant of the Lord ! 

The text also speaks of honourable burial : And 
was laid unto his fathers/^ Da^^id^s body was not 

cast out/^ as were the bodies of wicked kings 
and princes who were not allowed burial in the 
royal city: these were divided in death from their 
kindred, because of their crimes. David was ^' laid 
unto his fathers/' The Scriptures never treat the 
human body with irreverence, not even when it is 
forsaken by the living spirit. It is the superlative 
workmanship of God ; with the soul it has been 
redeemed by Christ ; and all creation is represented 
as groaning and waiting for the redemption of the 
body. That body, vile in its corruption, shall be 
raised again incorruptible: it shall come forth 
from the grave glorious and immortal. Then let 



38 THE SERVANT OF HIS GENERATION. 

it not be cast out ; but^ as in the case of 
Stephen^ let devout men carry it to its burial^ and 
make great lamentation over it. Let it sleep in 
companionship with its kindred dust^ — let it be 
laid unto its fathers^ — let the strong and enduring 
instinct for burial with our friends be gratified. The 
Patriarchs of old felt this instinct. Hence Abraham^ 
the father of the faithful^ purchased of the sons of 
Heth '^the field of Ephron^ which was in Mach- 
pelah^ which was before Mamre^ the fields and the 
cave which was therein^ and all the trees that were 
in the field^, that were in the borders round about^ 
that they might be made sure unto him for a pos- 
session of a burying-place.^^ Jacob felt this instinct. 
He felt it in regard to the members and household 
connexions of his family. How pathetically he 
refers to Deborah^ RebekaVs nurse,, in the place 
of her burial^ and calls the oak which overshadowed 
her solitary and separate grave^ Allon-bachuth^ the 
oak of weeping ! He seemed almost broken- 
hearted when he related to Joseph how he had to 
bury Eachel by the road-side^ ^^when there was 



THE SERVANT OF HIS GENERATION. 39 

but a little way to come unto Ephrath/^ And he 
felt it still more strongly in regard to himself. 
He had evidently a dread and a horror of being 
separated from his kindred in his burial^ and of 
being built up in some cold marble sarcophagus^ or 
under some ponderous pyramid^ by the building 
masons of Egypt.^^ More than once does he express 
this feeling to his son Joseph^ and that in the most 
solemn and imploring terms. If now/^ said he to 
him^ I have found grace in thy sights put^ I pray 
theCj thy hand under my thigh^ and deal kindly 
and truly with me ; bury me not^ I pray thee^ in 
Egypt : but I will lie with my fathers^ and thou 
shalt carry me out of Egypt^ and bury me in their 
burying-place. And he said^ I will do as thou hast 
said.^^ But this simple promise was not sufficient 
for the dying Patriarch ; and he demanded of Joseph 
a still more solemn pledge^ sayings Swear unto 
me. And he sware unto him/^ The last words 
Jacob uttered were on this subject ; for unto his sons 
assembled around his bed of death he said_, I am 
to be gathered unto my people : bury me with my 



40 THE SERVANT OF HIS GENERATION. 

fathers in the cave that is in the field of Ephron 
the Hittite^ in the cave that is in the field of Mach- 
pelah^ which is before Mamre^ in the land of 
Canaan^ which Abraham bought with the field of 
Ephron the Hittite for a possession of a burying- 
place. There they buried Abraham and Sarah his 
wife ; there they buried Isaac and Rebekah his wife ; 
and there I buried Leah/^ And they obeyed their 
father^s dying charge; for they bore his lifeless 
body three hundred miles across the desert to the 
land of Canaan^ — the servants of Pharaoh^ the 
elders of the house of Joseph^ and all the elders of 
the land of Egypt accompanying them : there 
went up both chariots and horsemen ; and it was a 
very great company/^ Joseph felt this strong 
natural instinct ; and in his death took an oath of 
the children of Israel for his burial-place in Canaan^ 
and ^^gave commandment concerning his bones/^ 
And that oath his descendants faithfully fulfilled. 
Amidst the plagues of Egypt^ and the haste with 
which they came out from that land of bondage^ 
they forgat not his body^ but bore it with them to 



THE SERVANT OF HIS GENERATION. 41 

their first encampment^ through the Red Sea^ and 
through that great and terrible wilderness/^ until 
they had crossed the Jordan^ and had buried it in 
Jacobus purchased possession/^ in the land of 
promise. Ruth^ the Moabitess^ felt it_, and said to 
Naomi^ her mother-in-law^ when entreated to leave 
her^ Where thou diest will I die^ and there will I be 
buried/^ We all feel this great natural instinct. W^e 
desire to sleep in companionship with our friends. 
Solitariness in burial is not what we desire. Who 
would not rather start up at the sound of the last 
trumpet amidst a family of the dead^ than wake up 
alone in the empty wilderness? And who would 
not rather perish in a sea traversed by the ships of 
all nations_, than sink^ ^^unknelled^ uncoffined^ and 
unknown/^ in the midst of a mastless ocean ? But 
especially do we desire to be buried with our kindred^ 
— to sleep with our fathers. And although a neces- 
sary laWj yet it is a severe law^ which requires that for 
sanitary reasons the sacred freeholds of the dead^ 
which have been purchased for a possession of a 
burying-place/^ should be closed^ and the dead of 



42 THE SERVANT OF HIS GENERATION. 

families should be divided. It shocks our natural 
instinct ; it disturbs our cberisbed hopes of rest 
in the grave with our kindred. David^ the man 
of sociable affections^ had this desire for burial with 
the great and the good of his own people realized : 
he was laid unto his fathers.^^ This instinct was 
strong in that great servant of the Church whose 
decease brings us together to-night. He wished to 
be laid unto his fathers^ in the best sense : that his 
body should be united with the bodies of the great 
Methodist labourers before him ; and Proiddence 
so ordered it that in this strong natural craving he 
had his hearths desire. 

We come to the closing passage of the text : 
And his flesh saw corruptions^ David^s lot was 
the common lot of humanity. The principle of 
life^ — we know not what it is in its essence^ — that 
mysterious principle of life shall be withdrawn 
from the organized material frame ; chemical laws 
which cannot act while that principle is present^ 
shall commence their action^ — the action of decom- 
position. The body shall become corrupt and 



THE SERVANT OF HIS GENERATION. 43 



putrid j the worm shall feed upon it and shall 
devour it. This is the penalty for sin that all 
must pay. Here the rich and the poor meet to- 
gether/^ This ^^one event happeneth unto all.^^ 
^^In Adam all die.''^ ^^By one man sin entered 
into the worlds and death by sin ; and so death 
passed upon all men^ for that all have sinned.^^ 
Thus_, ^^one generation passeth away^ and another 
cometh.^^ But^ as we have seen concerning the 
servant of God and of his generation^ ^^his flesh 
also shall rest in hope.^^ They ^^who are fallen 
asleep in Christ have not perished ; but shall be 
delivered from the bondage of corruption into 
the glorious liberty of the childixn of God.^^ 

How these great scriptural truths and lessons 
are sustained and illustrated in the life and services 
of him whose departure from earth has clothed us 
in moui^ning^ and occasioned this sermon^ I now 
proceed briefly to show. 



SKETCH 

OP IHE 

CHARACTER AXD SERVICES 

or THE LAIZ 

EEY. JABEZ BU^sTIXG, D.D. 



It is a beautiful and impressive fact recorded 
for us in Holy Scripture, that, in primitive times^. 
religious parents gave names to cliildren signifi- 
cant of tlie circumstances of theii' bii^th, and wliicli 
should render them living memorials of the special 
interposition of God on their behalf. Thus 
Hannah, the wife of Elkanah the Ephivathire. called 
the name of her late-born child Samuel, '''be- 



THE XA:v1E. 



45 



eause/^ said sLe^ ^'I asked him of the Lord.'-' 
And the name of Jabez ^as given to him whose 
memoiy we have now more especially to recal. 
with similar significancy of meaning. 

After the Conference at Leeds^ in the year 1769; 
Eichard Boardman^ Mr. Weslers first Missionary 
to America, then on his way to embark for the 
Xew Vrorld, rode into the quiet and almost un- 
known ^^iUage of Monyash^ in Derbyshire^ to rest 
for the night j and^ as the custom was with the 
early jlethcdist itinerants^ before retiring to sleep 
he preached to as many persons as could be hastily 
collected together. His text was taken fi'om 1 
Chron. iv. 9^ 10 : And Jabez was more honoui^able 
than his bretliren ; and his mother called his name 
Jabez. saying. Because I bare him with sorrow. 
And Jabez called on the God of Israel^ sayings O 
that Thou wouldest bless me indeed^ and enlarge 
my coast; and that Thine hand might be with me^ 
and that Thou wouldest keep me from evil^ that it 
may not grieve me ! And God granted him that 
which he requested. In that village congrega- 



46 



HIS MOTHER. 



tion was an intelligent^ thoughtful young woman^ 
named Mary Redfern^ who received the word gladly 
into her heart; and who^ ten years afterwards^ 
when she had married and settled in Manchester,, 
gave to her first child^ born on the 13th day of 
May, 1779, the name of Jabez, in grateful remem- 
brance of the saving benefit she had received 
through the preaching of the travelling Mission- 
ary. Having spent some part of the time that 
elapsed between her conversion and her mamage 
with families in Manchester visited by Mr. Wesley, 
and having thus become personally known to him, 
she carried her babe to Oldham Street Chapel on 
the occasion of one of Mr. Wesley^s pastoral visits 
to that town. Her purpose was, that the child 
might receive the benediction of the venerated 
founder of Methodism. And there Mr. Wesley 
took the infant Jabez Bunting into his arms, and 
solemrdy blessed the child in the name of the 
Lord, and before all the congregation. Should 
we speak too strongly, if we were to say that the 
subsequent history of Methodism has shown that 



HIS CHILDHOOD. 



47 



with that blessing was bequeathed Mr. TVesley^s 
own mantle to that child? 

Not much is known of Dr. Bunting^s child- 
hood. He has been heard to speak of the vi^dd 
remembrance he had of some of the Method- 
ist Preachers whom he heard in his boyhood^ and 
of the ineffaceable impression made upon his young 
mind by the placid and sweetly benignant counte- 
nance of the venerable Wesley. From his own 
testimony it would appear that^ under God^ he 
owed his first religious impressions to his mother ; 
and^ in common with that of numerous great men^ 
the early formation of his entire character may 
also be traced to the maternal soui^ce. His father^ 
William Buntings a native of Monyash^ was an 
intelligent^ pious Methodist ; but his mother's ener- 
getic and diligent devotion to the service of God 
most powerfully impressed him^ and most decidedly 
influenced both his spirit and destiny. She prayed 
much for him and with him^ instructed him in the 
great facts and principles of religion^ watched over 
him with wakeful solicitude^ took him with her 



48 



HIS MOTHER PERSECUTED. 



to the house of worship^, and trained him np for 
God^s service. The firm and devoted character of 
his mother had been formed by struggle with diffi- 
culties and opposition. In early life she had 
endured persecution for the sake of Jesus Christy 
and found the truth of the Scripture declaration^ that 
foes shall be of our own household. She was born 
at Upper-Haddon^ in Derbyshire^ but subsequently 
removed with her parents to Monyash^ where she 
heard Richard Boardman. Her father, instigated 
by the ungodly clergyman of the parish, with 
whom he was intimate, persecuted her for her 
attendance at Methodist services. And this he 
did so far at one time as to endanger her life, so 
that for personal safety she had to leave home 
and take a situation in Manchester. But a sense 
of duty to an afflicted mother brought her back 
to Monyash, where she had, to a great extent, the 
charge of her father^s house, and where she was 
the means of imparting seasonable religious counsel 
to her almost helpless mother. She lived to see 
her son honourable and useful in the Church to 



HIS BOYHOOD. 



49 



which she had devoted him; died at a good old 
age in the house of her son-in-law^ the Rev. 
Thomas Fletcher, who was at that time head-master 
of Woodhouse Grove School^ near Leeds ; and was 
buried beside her husband, in St. Jameses church- 
yard, Manchester. 

His great obligation to her who thus brought 
him up in the nurture and admonition of the Lord 
he never forgot j and, to the end of his life, when- 
ever he referred to his mother, it was with strong 
emotion. His boyhood seems to have been marked 
by outward purity, by the love of the Scriptures, 
and by delight in the public services of religion ; 
and there were in his case, as in Timothy^s, 

prophecies (foretellings) that went before of 
his future eminence in the Church of Christ. 

By the blessing of Divine Providence upon their 
industry and frugality, his parents were able to 
provide for him a good education, and thus to 
prepare him for the important service he should 
afterwards render to the Church. They were en- 
abled to place him, at a suitable age, in a large 

E 



50 



HIS OWN PERSECUTION. 



public scliool^ where he was surrounded by the sons 
of many of the wealthier families of the town. 
Here he had to bear the reproach of Christ ; for 
his haughty schoolfellows not only contemned him 
for his humbler birth^ but on account of his Meth- 
odist parentage. This was felt so much at first, 
that^, soon after his entrance into the school, his 
mother waited upon the master, and said that, 
unless the persecution of her son were abated, she 
must remove him. The master replied, he need not 
heed the persecution of the boys, for he would soon 
be at the head of the school. This prediction was 
speedily fulfilled ; and, instead of being despised by 
his schoolfellows of wealthier parentage, he became 
the general favourite. 

One of the scholars was the son of Dr. Percival, 
an eminent physician and man of letters in Man- 
chester. This youth became ardently attached to 
young Jabez, introduced his accomplished school- 
fellow into his father's family, and had the head- 
scholar there frequently as his companion during 
holidays. Dr. Percival was won by the superior 



WITH DR, PERCIVAL, 



51 



intelligence and great amiability of this chosen com- 
panion of his son ; and proposed to receive Jabez 
into his own house^ as a student in the medical 
profession^ and as his general assistant in literature. 
This proposal was acceded to by his parents^ but 
with the expressed provision that their son should 
sleep under their own roof, and spend his Sabbaths 
wholly with them. This stipulation was the more 
oarefuUv made, because Dr. Percival was not con- 
sidered orthodox in his views as to the Divinity 
and Atonement of Christ. The intercourse of a 
youth of so much talent and excellence with a 
gentleman of refined literary taste^ undoubtedly^ did 
much to influence both his mind and manners, 
while the vigilant care of his mother prevented 
any evil effect that might have arisen from contact 
with heterodoxy. The daily association of the 
young Jabez with Dr. Percival, unquestionably, 
tended to give him that purity and finish in lite- 
rary composition, and that gentlemanly courteous- 
ness of demeanour, which, in manhood, so eminently 
distinguished him. His proficiency in the medical 

E 2 



52 



HIS CONVERSION, 



profession was rapid and great; so that^ within a 
comparatively short period^ attractive and advan- 
tageous proposals for settlement in it were made 
to him by Dr. Percival; and the prospect of 
honourable and distinguished success in it opened 
before him. 

But Jabez Bunting was designed by God for a 
higher service than that of the medical profession. 
He was fore-ordained to be a Minister of the Gospel 
of the Son of God^ and to be a chosen vessel for 
spiritual sendee. His conversion was connected 
with an apparently trivial incident which^ in its 
issues_j had no small influence upon him as an 
administrator of discipline in the Church. From 
his childhood he had been accustomed to accompany 
his beloved mother to the lovefeasts of ]\Iethodism^ 
as well as to its other special services. The Rev. 
Joseph Benson had been succeeded in Manchester 
by the Rev. Alexander Mather^ a rigid disciplinarian^ 
who gave positive orders that none but duly accre- 
dited members should be admitted to the lovefeasts ; 
and that they^ on their admission^, should show 



I 



HIS CONVERSION. 



53 



their last quarterly tickets of membership. A love- 
feast was to be held in Oldham Street Chapel; but 
Jabez Buntings not being a member of Society^ had 
to be left at home by his mother. Jabez/^ said 
she to him^ before she quitted him^ I do not know 
what you think of it ; but to me it seems an awful 
fact that^ after having been carried to the lovefeast 
when you were unable to walk^ you should now be 
excluded from it by your own fault/^ Her words 
were as a nail fastened in a sure place : they pierced 
and fixed themselves within the very depths of his 
soul ; and^ in the loneliness of his situation^ and in 
the poignancy of his grief^ he went up into his 
bed-room^ confessed his sinfulness^ implored the 
Divine mercy, and very soon afterwards obtained^ 
through faith in the blood of Christ, the divine 
assurance by the Spirit that his sins were all 
forgiven, and that he was the adopted child 
of God. 

This fact, with other particulars of his early life, he 
related at the Centenary Meeting held in City Road 
Chapel, London ; and they who were present at that 



54 UNION WITH THE METHODIST SOCIETY. 



memorable meeting will remember the empbasis 
with wbicli he spoke^ when^ at the end of the 
relation^ he said_y So that you see I have to 
thank God for Methodist discipline as well as for 
Methodist doctrine/^ 

Immediately after his conversion^ he joined him- 
self to a weekly elass^ led by his uncle^ ]Mr. Joseph 
Eedfern. Mr. E. had followed his sister^ the 
mother of Jabez^ from Monyash to Manchester; 
and had there^ principally through her instrumen- 
tality^ been converted to God^ and become a useful 
class-leader for the Oldham Street Society. Jabez 
Bunting^s first ticket of full membership was re- 
ceived in the Christmas quarter of the year 1794; 
and it is remarkable that the text of Scripture 
which it bore was from Jabez^s prayer: ^^O that 
Thou wouldest bless me indeed^ and keep me from 
evil ! He had then passed into his sixteenth year; 
and a class-paper of that period^ still extant^ shows 
how regular the young disciple was in his attend-- 
ance on that spiritual and quickening means of 
grace : foi% in relation to his name^ A^, for absent/^ 



ZEALOUS EFFORTS FOR OTHERS. 



55 



is not once to be found on it. Thus Methodist 
discipHne was practically observed by him^ as well 
as associated in his mind with his conversion to 
God. 

Having himself become a partaker of the saving 
grace of God^ he became_, under the constrain- 
ing influence of the love of Christy zealous and 
laborious for the salvation of others. He at- 
tended prayer-meetings that were held in private 
houses for the benefit of persons resident in their 
neighbourhoods^ and took part in those exercises ; 
and he went into the courts and alleys^ and into 
the outskirts of the town^ and sought^, by earnest 
warnings and exhortations^ to compel sinners to 
come in and be partakers with him of Gospel bless- 
ings. During this period he was most earnest in 
the endeavour to improve his own mind with 
scriptural and theological knowledge^ and also to 
stimulate other minds around him to similar 
improvement. A Minute Book of a Young Men^s 
Improvement Society^ of which young Jabez Bunt- 
ing was the secretary and the most active member^ 



56 



HIS FIRST SERMON. 



preserved by the son of an early Methodist in Man- 
chester^ bears^ in its contents^ Ml proof of this. 
His first public address is said to have been an 
open-air exhortation, which he delivered on a Sun- 
day afternoon, in Salford ; and his first sermon was 
preached in his nineteenth year, in a farm-house, at 
a place called Sodom, near to Blakeley, a few miles 
from Manchester. His text was, "Ye believe in 
God, believe also in Me ; and his most intimate 
friend, (the friend of his youth, as well as of his 
mature and declining life,) Mr. James Wood, of 
Grove House, Manchester, who was with him on 
the occasion, was wont to affirm that he never after- 
wards preached a better sermon than he did at 
Sodom on that day. His admiring friend may have 
been excited by a first performance, and have spoken 
from the overflowing warmth and partiality of 
friendship ; but it is, nevertheless, true that early 
maturity was one of Dr. Bunting^s most remarkable 
characteristics. 

As might be anticipated, the call of the Church 
without, that he should separate himself from secular 



ENTRANCE INTO THE MINISTRY. 



57 



pursuits^ and give himself wholly to the word of 
God and to prayer^ was soon heard uniting with the 
divine call which he received in his own soul. That 
call he forthwith obeyed; and leaving all prospects 
of earthly advantage in Manchester^ he went forth 
as a Methodist itinerant preacher^ — one who should 
have no settled place of abode_, and but a scanty^ 
and in those days precarious^ means for subsistence. 
The change of circumstances was felt the more by 
him^ because it deprived him of the power of help- 
ing his widowed mother^ (his father having died some 
two years previously^) as effectively as heretofore. 
Yet he did help her out of his very small income 
as a Methodist preacher ; and he helped her as long 
as she lived. The Conference of 1799 gave him his 
first appointment : it was to the Oldham Circuity when 
he was in his twentieth year. The incident he has 
been heard to describe^ of his uncle Redfern accom- 
panying him on the road from Manchester^ as he went 
forth on foot towards Oldham^ carrying his saddle- 
bags on his arm^ and of their affectionate parting at 
a retired spot^ where^ before they separated^ they 



58 



INTERCOURSE WITH BRADBURN. 



prayed and wept together^ must liave been affecting 
indeed. 

His preacliing in the Oldham Circuit was with 
power; and the people greatly wondered at the 
wisdom with which he spoke to them. Mr. Brad- 
burn was at that time stationed in Manchester; 
and the young preacher at Oldham — who^ then as 
ever afterwards^ was attracted by good speaking — 
used to visit his mother usually at the end of the 
week^ and take the opportunity of hearings on the 
Saturday evenings the prince of Methodist orators. 
Mr. Bradburn seems to have appreciated the supe- 
rior talents of his young ministerial hearer^ and to 
have received Jabez Bunting into fi'ee and intimate 
intercourse with himself ; and deeply interesting and 
instructive were the reminiscences of Bradburn^s 
sayings and doings which the friends of Dr. Bunting 
sometimes heard from him in free conversation. 

The subsequent appointments of Dr. Bunting may 
be learned from the Minutes of Conference. From 
Oldham he removed to Macclesfield ; and from 
thence he was appointed to London^ when he was 



MINISTERIAL APPOINTMENTS, 



59 



married in the Lord to Sarali^ the pious and 
talented daughter of Mr. Maclardie^ a profes- 
sional and accomplished musician^ who was organist 
at Christ^s church (the Rev. David Simpson^s) in 
Macclesfield^ Trhere Mr. Vresley sometimes preached. 
Then he was stationed in Manchester; and after- 
wards in SheflSeld^ Liverpool^ Halifax^, and Leeds^ 
remaining in each Circuit two vears^ which was as 
long as the laws of the Connexion would at that 
period allow. He was then appointed again to 
Circuits in London,, Manchester^ and Liverpool^ re- 
maining in each Circuit three years^ and serving, 
while in London^ as senior secretary for the Mis- 
sionary Society^ and as editor for the Book Room. 
On the death of Richard T\"atson in 1833^ he was 
re-appointed to be the senior secretary for the 
Missionary Society j and^ for eighteen years after- 
wards^ up to the Conference of 1851, he held that 
important office. He then retired from its ftiU 
duties, and became a supernumerary ; but, since 
then, at the special request of the Conference, from 
year to year, he gave the aid of his counsel to the 



60 OFFERS HIMSELF AS A MISSIONARY. 

missionary secretaries^ and to the committee. From 
its establishment in 1834^ to the end of his life^ he 
was also president of the Theological Institution. 
During this extended period of fifty-nine years of 
ministerial service in Methodism^ he faithfully de- 
voted himself to the promotion of its interests. At 
an early part of his ministry he offered himself to 
be sent as one of Dr. Cokeys first missionaries to 
India; but he was retained by his fathers and 
brethren for evangehcal labour in his own country 
at home^ they being loth to part with him for 
foreign service. This offering of himself for mission- 
ary service abroad he used to speak of with grateful 
satisfaction to the end of his days^ being earnestly 
thankful for the grace which had led him to make 
it freely and unreservedly. Some of the happiest 
moments of my life/^ he has been heard to say^ next 
to those that immediately followed my conversion 
to God^ were when I fully presented myself to the 
Lord, as a missionary to India.-'^ 

Soon after he was received into the ministry, 
Jabez was found more honourable than his brethren. 



OFFICIAL HONOURS. 



61 



He rose rapidly into eminence^ both as a preacher, 
and in the Conference ; and though there were^ in 
those days^ several ministers of mark and of just 
celebrity in Methodism^ yet he took fall rank among 
them^ and became an acknowledged leader in our 
Israel. By his effective and popular preaching he 
swayed the masses of the people ; and by his busi- 
ness talent and statesmanlike dealing with subjects 
as they arose in the Conference^ he gained ascend- 
ancy over the minds of his brethren; so that he 
soon became the most powerful man in Methodism. 
He was the first minister elected by nomination into 
the Legal Hundred.^^ When but a young man on 
trials he aided Dr. Coke in the secretaryship of the 
Conference ; he was the first to fill that office after 
the doctor^s departure for India; and so efficiently 
did he perform its duties^ that he was elected to it 
by his brethren not less than ten times. As many 
as four times^ and those in years as near together 
as the regulations of the Body admits he held the 
highest office that the Methodist ministry affords^ — 
that of President of the Conference. 



62 



SERVICES TO THE COXXEXIOX. 



Tliis liigli position he obtained^ fairly and legiti- 
mately^ by liis commanding talents^ and by Lis 
great and beneficial services to the Connexion. 
His energetic and comprehensive intellect grasped 
the real natm^e and genius of Methodism; and^ 
seeing how its institutions required consolidation 
and expansion^ he set himself to accomplish these 
objects^ so as to adapt the whole machinery of 
Methodism more adequately to its advanced posi- 
tion and circumstances. And so great and exten- 
sive were his labours in these respects^ and so fully 
did his prove to be the leading and master-mind of 
the Connexion^ that during the last half-centuiy 
there has scarcely been an important move- 
ment in Methodism that has not spmng^ directly 
or indirectly^ fi^om him. Mr. Wesley, it is well 
known^ organized Zslethodism in the shape of mere 
Societies^ but refused to give it a complete and 
separate form of ecclesiastical government : and he 
left the pecuniaiy means for its support to be pro- 
vided^ in a great degree^ as ciiTumstances might 
require and favom'_, from time to time. Though 



SERVICES TO THE COXXEXIOX. 



63 



this arrangement and procedure served very well 
during the life-time of the founder of Methodism, 
to whom all the numerous Societies were accus- 
tomed to look up with confidence and grateful 
veneration^ yet immediately after his decease there 
were great anxieties and discussions on these 
matters, and several veiy important arrangements 
had to be made in relation to them. Still there 
remained much to be done to balance the system 
of Methodism, and to adjust it for safe and har- 
monious working. This ser^ice, under God, Dr. 
Bunting, with his surpassing qualifications of mind, 
most effectively suppKed. He saw, for instance, 
that the nomination and election of the most senior 
ministers only into the legal hundred, and that 
wholly by the hundi-ed themselves, — which, at first, 
was the rule, — would produce jealousy and discon- 
tent among the younger ministers, and thereby 
peril the unity of the Body; while the main 
responsibility for government must rest upon men 
who had passed the meridian of theii' sti-ength. 
He therefore proposed and carried a plan for filling 



64 



SERVICES TO THE CONNEXION. 



every fourth vacancy tliat should occur in the legal 
Conference with one younger minister^ by nomina- 
tion from all the members of the General Conference 
that have travelled fourteen years. 

Again : he saw that the mode of aiding one 
fund in its necessity by taking from another which 
had been raised for a different purpose^ was likely 
to produce discontent and complaint ; and he drew 
up a scheme for the distinct and separate working 
of each fund of the Connexion, and for the yearly 
presentation of an account of the income and dis- 
bursements of each fund, distinctly and separately. 
He saw that the scattered laws and regulations of 
Methodism^ which had accumulated in its progress, 
needed unity and relative agreement; and he set 
himself to accomplish this as occasion might arise, 
from time to time. His constant and persevering 
aim was to consolidate and complete Methodism 
as a system of evangelical agency; and to this 
work he devoted all the powers of his clear, con- 
structive, and practical mind. 

On the death of Dr. Coke, he became the chief 



SERVICES TO THE CONNEXION. 65 

director of the Wesleyan Missionary movement^ 
— the greatest Christian Missionary movement of 
any age. And to Jabez Buntings more than to any 
other man^ Wesleyan Missions owe their promi- 
nence and precedence among the great Protestant 
enterprises of Christendom. He was the chief 
agent in organizing the Wesleyan Missionary 
Society : he took the platform for its advocacy 
against the fears and donbts of many^ and that with 
the most triumphant success. For many years^ as 
we have seen^ he served it as one of its general secre- 
taries^ — making for it one of the noblest sacrifices 
that a man possessed of such a mind could possibly 
make^ in the considerate and resolute abandonment 
of long cherished literary projects. In a letter to a 
friend^ written at the time when this resolve was 
made^ he says^ The die is cast. If I give to our 
Missions the attention they require_, I shall not 
have hereafter any time for literatm-e.^^ After the 
writing of that letter we have no more publica- 
tions under the name of Jabez Bunting, — though 
there have been, since then, numerous important 

F 



66 



SERVICES TO THE CONNEXION. 



documents deposited in the arcliives of the Con- 
nexion that bear the unmistakeable impress of his 
powerful hand : so that his sermon on Justifica- 
tion by Faith/^ preached before his brethren in 
the Halifax District^ — his sermon preached before 
the Sunday School Union^ in Dr. Winter^s chapel^ 
London^ — and one or two memorials of departed 
Methodist labourers^ — while they are sufficient to 
show us what the finished productions of his pen 
would have been^ if his literary purposes had been 
carried out^ yet they are all that he has left to 
perpetuate his name in connexion with literature; 
he having deliberately and determinedly sacrificed 
the thought of a literary career for practical ser- 
vice in the cause of God. But there is greatness 
in deeds^ as well as in writing books ; and the 
name of Jabez Bunting will be as illustrious 
through his labours for Missions and Methodist 
institutions^, as if he had been the author of fifty 
folios. When stationed in Leeds^ he had lucrative 
oflers made to him by gentlemen belonging to the 
Society there^ and who were desirous of having some 



SERVICES TO THE CONNEXION. 



67 



of his powerful sermons published. They offered 
him^ I believe^ as much as £500 for the manu- 
scripts of some twelve sermons. But he refused, 
on the ground of full occupation with his minis- 
terial duties; and when urged to compliance by- 
some of his intimate friends^ on the plea of the 
probable requirements of his family, he replied, that 
if he were faithful in doing the work of his calling, 
God would provide for his family. He lived to see 
the fulfilment of his own saying; and to remark, 
in his latter days, that he saw it fulfilled. 

He was the first to introduce laymen into the 
management of the missionaTy affairs of the Church, 
— and that against strong remonstrances from many 
of his elder brethren. From that beginning, he 
successfully urged the need and fitness of enlisting 
the service of laymen in every Connexional com- 
mittee where financial business had to be trans- 
acted, — until it has become an acknowledged 
principle in British Methodism, that in all such 
cases laymen shall be associated in equal numbers 
with Ministers : the maxim of our fathers being 

r 2 



68 



SERVICES TO THE CONNEXION. 



now practically carried out : Spiritual matters 
belong to the preachers^ and temporal to the 
people/^ The regulations for securing the religious 
purity and efficient working of Sunday schools; 
the fund for the relief of embarrassed chapels • the 
Children's Fimd : and the Auxiliary Fund^ either 
originated with him^ or were moulded anew under 
his counsel. The Theological Institution for the im- 
provement of junior Preachers was his own creation; 
and he gave to it his fatherly counsel and attention^ 
to the end of his life. The gi^eat Centenaiy move- 
ment, by which more than £200.000 were contri- 
buted by a gi'ateful people for the several institutions 
of the Connexion,, and by which the scale of contri- 
bution to the cause of God was so materially 
raised among us : as also the Eelief and Extension 
Fund^ by which £80.000 were obtained for the same 
objects. — were mainly projected and materially pro- 
moted by him. Indeed^ there is not an institution 
or department of Methodism which does not bear^ 
more or less^ the stamp of his formative intellect. 
He has ploughed^ so to speak^ his own practical and 



HIS DISINTERESTEDNESS. 



69 



harmonious character deeply into every part of the 
vast field of Methodism ; and, more than any other 
man since Mr, Wesley^ has framed and fashioned 
it as a system of evangelical and disciplinary 
agency ; so that, instead of being, as it vras, a 
mere Society, or adjunct of another Church, its 
elementary principles have been expanded and 
carried forth, until it is now well-nigh matured as 
a fully organized Church in itself. And yet, like 
Wesley, and other disinterested labourers for the 
Lord, he made no earthly gain for himself by what 
he achieved. He received only the ordinary in- 
come of a Methodist minister, which did not 
really supply his wants as a public man in 
Methodism ; but which left him, in his necessities, 
to consume, to a considerable extent, the means 
that, in the progress of life, came to him by his 
family connexions, and which others would have 
stored up more carefully for old age, and for their 
children. 

Thus, his works praise him in the gate ; and 
he has signally exemplified, in himself and in his 



70 



HIS REAL GREATNESS. 



pre-eminent position^ tlie sovereign precept of our 
Lord concerning greatness among His followers: 

Whosoever vrill be great among you, let him be 
your minister; and whosoever will be chief among 
you, let him be your servant/^ He was great by 
service and practical usefulness. If a great man 
be one who does that which when done is of the 
highest importance, — or if real greatness be great 
power producing great effects, —then, assuredly. 
Dr. Jabez Bunting was a great man, and a prince 
in our Israel. He served the generation of his own 
people by the will of God. 

Nor was the acknowledgment of his superiority 
confined to his own community. The leading men 
of the nation, and of other religious denominations^ 
saw and acknowledged it. For many years he was 
publicly regarded as the representative man of 
Methodism, embodying in his declarations and 
conduct its principles and proceedings. Senators 
and legislators for the nation sought his counsel 
and service in the cause of humanity and in seasons 
of emergency. He was enthusiastically loyal to the 



HIS CHRISTIAN PHILANTHROPY. 



71 



throne and government of his countiy^ and more 
than once braved — by public denunciations and 
remonstrances — fuiious revokitionists in disturbed 
manufacturing districts T\-here he was stationed; 
but he as manfully resisted any proposed legislative 
encroachments upon the civil or religious rights of 
British subjects. He was an advocate for the 
emancipation of Roman Catholics fi'om civil restric- 
tions; but he was ever found ready to resist to the 
utmost Popish comiptions and intrusions. On the 
renewal of the East India Company^s Charter 
some years ago^ he strenuously sought to secure 
freedom for Christian and Missionary enterprises 
among the natives of India ; and he was found not 
less zealous for this fi-eedom at the close of his life. 
He was imited with TMlberforce^ Clarkson^ Buxton, 
and "Watson^ in organized efforts for the fi^eedom 
of the long-oppressed Negroes in the TVest Indies ; 
he lifted up his voice unceasingly in Conference 
against the toleration of slavery by the ^lethodists 
of the Northern States of America^ until the great 
separation of the Churches there on that question^ 



72 



HIS CATHOLICITY. 



in 1844 j and lie was foremost in proposals for 
friendly but faithful remonstrances with the brethren 
therC;, against their being partakers in any degree 
of the sin which Mr. Wesley fitly described as 
^^an execrable sum of all villanies/^ From its 
commencement^ he was the friend and earnest advo- 
cate of the British and Foreign Bible Society; 
and though^ in remembrance of the scriptural 
declaration^ that the wisdom that is from above is 
first pure, then peaceable/^ he was careful not to 
commit himself to formal association with the 
Evangelical Alliance until the fii^m^ scriptural^ and 
Protestant basis of union was agreed upon^ yet^ 
when he found that he could serve in this with 
a pure conscience/^ he gave himself heartily to it, 
became its senior honorary secretary^ and continued 
to hold that ofiice to the end of his days. Not to 
enumerate the strong and admiring testimonies 
given publicly to his character by leading men of 
the nation and the Churchy it is worthy of remem- 
brance that the venerable and good Dr. Chalmers, 
among the last entries of his diary, declared that 



ELEMENTS OF CHARACTER. 



73 



lie loved to the uttermost Dr. Buntings ^^one of 
the best and wisest of men/^ Thus the recognition 
of Dr. Bunting^s transcendent merit has not been 
confined to his own people^ but has been found 
among all communities and classes of the nation. 
Indeed^ through his zealous^ persevering^ and suc- 
cessful efforts for missionary and philanthropic 
objects^ the sound of him has gone out into the 
ends of the world.^^ 

What were the main elements of a character so 
pre-eminently great and useful ? will be the natural 
inquiry. I shall not attempt any formal analysis 
of Dr. Bunting's character^ but shall simply state 
what most distinctly impressed me during my ob- 
servance of him in public and private life. 

It was impossible to be with him^ and to observe 
him closely^ without being impressed with his 
genuine simplicity. He was guileless as a child in 
his plans and purposes. " Godly sincerity under- 
laid and appeared in all he said and did. In this 
respect he was a plain man.^^ There were no 



74 



HIS GENUINE SIMPLICITY. 



folds in his character : no embroidered coverings to 
mislead another^s mind and judgment : no crooked 
and concealed policy. He was open and straight- 
forward in what he said and did; and this it was 
which secm'ed for him such implicit confidence in 
the minds of all who really knew him. They 
saw and felt that he was to be most unreservedly 
trusted in all that he professed and undertook. 
This was seen by the friend and patron of his 
youth^ Dr. Percival^ — who so fully confided in his 
integrity as to make him a legal executor to his 
will. And this was shown^ not only by his friends 
and supporters^ but also by his opponents. Hence 
those who had been railing against him have been 
heard openly proposing^ when under accusation by 
others^ to leave the decision of their case wholly 
to him. Truthful and upright in himself, he was 
unsuspicious towards others^ and that to an extent 
seldom found among men : thoroughly and un- 
waveringly honest himself^ he was always ready to 
put the most favourable and kindly construction on 
the conduct of others^ — even of his foes. 



HIS MODESTY. 



75 



With this genuine and unaffected simplicity and 
unswerving uprightness^ there were in him unaffected 
humility and real kindness of disposition. A more 
modesty self-forgetful man could scarcely be found. 
Conscious as he must have been of his own superior 
gifts^ and of his power over others^ there was no 
vaunting of himself on these accounts. From his 
mind boasting seemed to be entirely excluded. 
Even when in the freest intercourse with his most 
intimate friends^ he seldom or ever referred to any- 
thing that he had done^ though he had done so 
much j and nothing seemed to disturb him more 
than public references to his excellence or ability. 
And_, thus truly and spiritually meek and lowly^ he 
assumed no lofty airs of dignity or reserve. He did 
not screen himself off^ by ceremonious stiffness_, from 
his brethren in the ministry^ and from the multi- 
tude^ lest he should lose caste and status by too 
much familiarity with them. Some of my hearers 
will have remembrances of the Conference held at 
this town of Bradford in the autumn of 1853^ — when^ 
yonder in front of Kirk gate Chapel^ numbers of 



76 



HIS COURTEOUSNESS. 



Methodist men and women^ ^4oosened^' at noon 
from the ^^mills/^ gathered to see the ministers 
leave the place of their assembly to go to the houses 
of friends who entertained them^ and stretched forth 
their unwashed hands towards Dr. Bunting; and 
they will remember how hearty was his shake of 
fraternal recognition. He was a thoroughly kindly 
and courteous man : there was not,, at any moment, 
anything approaching to moroseness or repulsive- 
ness in his manners. He was not a gentleman in 
high places only ; he was gentle and gracious in 
spirit^ and therefore he was a gentleman always. 
Who ever knew him rude^ or vulgar^ in word or 
action ? He might say^ or do^ what was strong and 
weighty in its pressure upon others who were con- 
tending against him ; but never what was coarse or 
rude. He honoured woman^ reverenced the aged^ 
and loved little children. It were difficult to say 
whether his gentleness and attention to children, or 
the completeness with which he won their love at 
once, were the more remarkable. He was a hearty and 
companionable man. He loved the friendly circle, 



HIS HOSPITALITY. 



77 



cheerfully joined in tlie evening hymn^ joyfully 
listened to the sound of music^ and was ever 
ready to prolong the fire-side conversation, rather 
than cut it short for early separation and retire- 
ment. Like Dr. Johnson, whom in some other 
respects he much resembled, he liked to fold his 
legs and have his talk out.^^ 

In his home he was, as it is required of a 
Christian minister to be, given to hospitality.''^ 
Nothing appeared to please him more than to have 
a goodly number of his ministerial brethren around 
his table. And his friends throughout the kingdom 
will remember his cheerful and happy companion- 
ships with them in their several abodes after he had 
performed his public labours for the day ; and how, 
though they viewed him as an oracle of wisdom, 
yet he sat among them and in the midst of their 
families, simple and open as a child. He was 
charmed by wit ; for he had it, sharply and brightly, 
in himself : but he kept the dangerous weapon most 
guardedly under restraint. He knew well that indul- 
gence in the habit of looking at things in a ludicrous 



78 HIS CONSTANCY IN FRIENDSHIP. 



light is hurtful to the moral feelings. Stilly he loved to 
hear a cheerful sally of genuine humour^ and would 
himself indulge^ now and then^ in a smart repartee. 
And whether at his own table^ or at the friendly 
board of another^ he would courteously listen to 
what might be related by any^ of personal observa- 
tions and experiences ; and then^ as one among the 
company^ he would tell his own tale of bygone 
days and departed acquaintances ; and^ though 
always without lightness and triflings yet not un- 
frequently he would relate his anecdote or story 
with almost youthful zest. 

While^ however^ he was kind and generous to all^ 
yet he did not undervalue the more private and 
confidential intercourse of social life. He knew the 
truth of Addison^s statement^ that there is no such 
a thing as real conversation but between two persons. 
He loved a chosen friend^ to whom^ in free com- 
panionship^ he could reveal the interior thoughts 
and feelings of his heart. And when once his friend- 
ship was fixed^ it was founds ever afterwards^ firm 
and immoveable. Throughout his life^ he was never 



AFFECTIONS FOR HOME AND FAMILY. 79 

known to neglect or desert a friend. Steadfast- 
ness in friendsliip seemed to be his very oath of 
knighthood. 

His affections for home and family were strong. 
He was a tenderly devoted husband; a loving 
father; and he was ever ready to embrace any 
opportunity that would bring all his family to- 
gether^ immediately around him. Birthday anni- 
versaries^ Christmas^ and other festive seasons of 
the year, were sociably observed by him; and it 
was touching to see him in his old age, when con- 
fined to his chair at the fire-side, fondling upon his 
knees, or playfiilly endeavouring to interest, on the 
hearth-rug, the infant daughter of Mr. Joseph 
Bunting, his youngest son. In the time of family 
bereavement, while resolutely submissive under the 
stroke, yet he bowed himself down hea^ily in his 
sorrow, ^''as one that mourneth for his mother.^ ^ 
The kindliness of his natm^e extended to dumb, 
irrational creatures, some of which were usually to 
be found either frisking in pleasure before him, or 
stretched for rest and warmth at his feet. He was 



80 HIS INTELLECTUAL ENDOWMENTS. 



no stoic^ no ascetic^ — no mere bust of human 
nature^ all head and no heart. His large soul 
had large sympathies. He loved the great home 
of the world and of humankind. 

But^ with these artless^ lowly^ winnings and so- 
ciable qualities of his nature^ there were^ as already 
noted^ high intellectual endowments. His perception 
was clear^ rapid^ and certain. He usually saw at a 
glance the full meaning and bearings of things. With 
him there seemed to be no confounding of things that 
differ ; no mist^ no confusion ; but all was plain and 
open to his view. Hence^ the readiness with which 
he could^ in an emergency^ stand forward to coun- 
sel or plead^ in a case under consideration. Hence, 
the breadth and completeness of the view he took of 
any subject he discussed. And hence, the clear and 
accurate forms of expression with which he instantly 
presented his views to the minds of others. He was 
undoubtedly endowed with marvellous power and 
facility of speech, so that he could give the most 
exact and ready enunciation of his thoughts at any 
time ; but the pellucid clearness and cogent strength 



HIS STYLE. 



81 



of his style proved the clearness and strength of his 
mental perceptions. Speech is but the outward and 
audible embodiment of the inward operations of 
thought ; and if the one be weak^ confused^ and 
hazy^ the other may be expected to be equally inane^ 
chaotic^ and nebulous. Style is but the image of 
the mind ; and, in this respect^, as in others^ As a 
man thinketh in his hearty so is he.^^ Dr. Bunting^s 
style of language was most simple and familiar : so 
much sOj that it was no uncommon thing for per- 
sons who heard him speak^ to affirm that they 
thought it would be very easy to say what he was 
saying, and in the very same form and order 
of words. But such a clear and complete style of 
speaking as his, is, in reahty, the most difficult to 
attain, and therefore is very seldom found. It 
does not admit of a random or chance-medley use 
of words ; but requires that the right words, and the 
right words only, should be employed, and that they 
all should be put in their right places. It is easy 
to alfect a swollen, pompous style, and to use words 
twice as large as the subject needs; but it is not 

G 



82 



HIS PRECISION OF REASONING. 



SO easy^ in the process of extemporaneous speaking; 
to pitch at once upon the fittest words^ and to 
arrange them in their proper connexions. It re- 
quires clearness and precision of thought for this^ 
as well as accurate and extensive knowledge of lan- 
guage. Dr. Bunting^ s style of speaking was so 
remarkably clear and complete^ that what he said 
seemed fit at once for the press. Sometimes there 
was the use of long sentences^ and of parenthesis^ — 
the expanded and guarded reflection of a mind of 

large discourse^ looking before and after ; but 
who ever heard him speak obscurely or confusedly ? 
or who ever thought^ as they listened to him^ that 
better words could have been employed to express 
the meaning ? 

With clearness and rapidity of YieWj he was logi- 
cally precise and exact in his process of reasoning. 
Some persons have ready perception and great 
volubility of speech ; but they reason incorrectly^ 
and pronounce wrong conclusions. It was not so 
with Dr. Bunting. He pursued questions fairly 
from their acknowledged premises to their tiaie and 



HIS ATTACHMENT TO FACTS. 



83 



legitimate issues. He advanced from position to 
position^ glancing at all sides of his subject as lie 
passed onwards^ until; by the time he had finished 
speaking; the argument he had constructed seemed 
as clear; as firm^ and as harmonious as the archi- 
tecture of the heavens. It has been said that he 
was utterly devoid of genius and imagination.-'^ 
Well : it is true that he built no castles in the air^ 
he spun no metaphysical cobwebs^ he never soared 
into the heavens on the silken wings of prurient 
fancy. He seldom quoted poetry, except from 
the Methodist Hymn Book, Dr. Young's ''Night 
Thoughts/' George Herbert's ''Temple/' or some 
poem of ancient date. He based all he said and. did 
on the solid ground of facts. But if "genius'^ be 
shown in the doing of something with surpassing 
excellence^ and if " imagination" be that leading and 
commanding faculty of the mind that goes before 
to pioneer the course of thought; and that marshals 
the forces of argument; then it would be a vain task 
for any one to attempt to show that Dr. Bunting 
was devoid of genius and imagination. Facility in 

G 2 



84 



HIS POWER IN ARGUMENT. 



reasoning was^ with him, as marked as facility of 
speech. He might be said to walk snrely_, in 
arguing : he did not stumble^ or amble in his 
conrse : he did not ^^jump to a conclusion ; but 
pursued his way steadily until the true end was 
gained. For this cause he almost uniformly took 
the greater number of the minds he addressed along 
with him^ in his pleadings ; and made them wonder 
how it was^ that they had not before seen the matter 
under consideration in the light in which he had 
placed it. Even when the subject under discussion 
had become complicated and entangled by the mul- 
tiplied and conflicting opinions of others^ he would 
seize the clue and unravel the whole with apparent 
ease. As Dr. Leifchild said at his burial^ when 
referring to his practical counsel on difficult matters 
in early meetings of the Evangelical Alliance^ The 
wisdom of his suggestions^ his counsel^ and his 
advice^ was soon perceived and felt ; and ever after, 
when -he rose^ all was hushed to silence. Often, 
when we found ourselves involved in perplexity upon 
some topic before us^ the sound of his voice was 



HIS UNERRING JUDGMENT, 



85 



heard_, and came like light upon the thicket, show- 
|l ing ns the way out^ and leading ns to the proper 
result. In the extent of his information^ the compre- 
hensiveness of his views^ the conclusiveness of his rea- 
i soning^ and^ I will add^ in the urbanity of his manner, 
^ I never saw his equal, and I never expect to AoJ' 

Hence, as it might be expected, he was a man 
of sound and confident judgment. His conclusions, 
like his reasonings, were clear and certain ; so that 
nearly all persons who heard him concurred with him 
in them. This fact was the basis of their attempted 
defamation on the part of those who envied him. 
They set him forth as wielding despotic power over 
his brethren, and as lording it over the wills and 
opinions of the members of Conference. But this 

i was most flagrantly untrue. The minds he swayed 

1 

I were accustomed to weigh deliberately what was 
brought before them, and not listlessly and help- 
lessly to lean upon others for their decisions. Finding 
him so uniformly just and sure, they could not but 
respect his judgment, and be disposed to hearken 

I to him ; but it was by fair and legitimate reasoning 



86 



HIS INFLUENCE AND POWER. 



he brought them to approve the conclusions he 
affirmed. 

In a word^ he was a man of influence and power. 
And this was felt wherever he appeared. As 
Johnson said of Burke^ — if you had met him acci- 
dentally under a gateway in a shower of rain^ you 
would have known that he was a great man. In 
bodily figure and form he was a noticeable person- 
age. View him where you mighty— in the street;, 
by the fire-side^ on the platform_, in the pulpit^ or 
in a Committee^— his outward appearance^ like his 
mind^ was simple and impressive. If seated among 
a thousand men in a public assembly^ a stranger 
among the spectators would be sure to inquire 
concerning him : Who is that venerable-looking 
minister^ with the large bald compact head^ and 
with the plain single-breasted coat ? Tall^ broad^ 
massive^ and upright in figure^ and open in coun- 
tenance^, he was conspicuous even in a crowd ; while 
his simple^ devout^ and thoughtful demeanour pro- 
duced an immediate impression that he was no 
ordinary man. But it was the real superiority of 



HIS INFLUENCE AND POWER. 



87 



his character which made him powerful. It was 
this which^ in all the combinations of its excellence^ 
drew others towards him^ and cemented their at- 
tachment to him. Events follow the true hero. A 
superior mind will influence inferior minds as surely 
as the moon heaps up the waves of the Atlantic in 
her track. What means did you employ ? was the 
question eagerly asked of one who had surprisingly 
succeeded in winning over to her cause Mary de 
Medici ; and the simple answer was^ Only that 
influence which a strong mind has over a weaker 
one.^^ It was so with Dr. Buntings and the influ- 
ence he exerted over others: the greater mind led 
and swayed lesser minds. Some complained of 
this ; but they mighty as rationally^ have complained 
of the magnetic attraction of the North Pole : the 
laws of mind are as irresistible as the laws of matter. 
When Dr. Bunting first associated himself with the 
Evangelical Alliance, some were jealous of his appre- 
hended power, having heard of his sway in the 
Methodist Conference ; and they expressed their 
jealousy by saying, earnestly, ^^But he is not going 



88 



HIS INFLUENCE AND POWER. 



to gorern us ! The same parties \vere afterwards 
heard to say^ ^^What a wonderful man is this Dr. 
Bunting of Methodism ! He governs and sways 
us^ as if we were children around him ! He 
was born to rule/^ as Dr. Leifchild said; ^^but/^ as 
the same speaker added^ his rule was not that of 
assumed authority : it was the necessary and natural 
effect of a superior mind upon other minds^ and 
which could not but determine their course.^^ There 
are kings in the realm of mind as well as among 
nations ; and Dr. Bunting was one of them. Yet^ 
in his case^ there was no effort to make an impres- 
sion j to win favour or admiration. There was no 
bustle or show in what he did. He despised noisy 
popularity^ and never couited it. A serene atmo- 
spherC; for the most pai% surrounded him ; and a 
calm and dignified demeanour^ a real majesty of 
character^ inspired respect and veneration towards 
him from all aroimd. In him it was seen how 
commanding worth sits crowned in all companies. 

These high gifts and powers he devoutly conse- 
crated to the service of God. In his youth he had 



CONSECRATION OF ALL TO GOD. 



89 



solemnly vowed Mmself to the Lord ; and his faith- 
ful heart never drew back from the covenant. He 
gave all to his Divine Savionr_, and kept back no 
part of the promised offering. He was a truly 
devout^ spiritual^ and prayerful man. There was^ in 
all that he did^ that deep tone of piety which nothing 
but frequent communings with God can secure. 
As Richard Watson said of him to a young friend^ 
(young at that time_,) the Kev. John Scott^, He was 
a great man^ and did everything in the fear of the 
Lord.^^ He laid hold on God^s strength for what 
he had to do. He prayed to his Father who seeth 
in secret^ and he was rewarded openly. He loved 
social prayer ; and at the end of each petition by a 
friend he would fervently breathe his emphatic 
^^Amen!^^ Some of my own most hallowed recol- 
lections of Dr. Bunting are connected with social 
prayer^ when we addressed^ alternately^ the throne 
of grace. And those who heard him in public 
prayer can never forget him. Such reverence^ such 
profound prostration of the soul_, such enlargement 
of desire and fulness of petition, such pleading and 



90 



HIS POWER IN PRAYER. 



continuance before the mercy-seat^ such rising into 
confidence and holy boldness^ and then such thrill- 
ing awe and overwhelming power^ when God bowed 
the heavens and came down ! These blessed remem- 
brances must ever remain with those who heard his 
petitions to heaven on public occasions. He had, 
with his other gifts, pre-eminently, the gift of 
prayer ; and he diligently cultivated and improved 
it. He seemed ever to live and to act in the spirit 
of dependence upon God; and, undoubtedly, this 
was the great source of his strength. 

As a Treacher, he was lucid, orderly, and power- 
ful. His chosen motto would seem to have been. 

Commending ourselves to every man^s conscience 
in the sight of God.^^ He was natural and easy in 
his style, richly evangelical in his doctrine, and 
irresistibly impressive in his applications. He was 
not a startling preacher, after the manner of modern 
times. He glided easily into his subject, usually 
pointing out the position and connexion of the text 
in his introduction; and then, having clearly and 



HIS CHARACTER AS A PREACHER, 



91 



folly explained the truth under distinct lieads^ lie 
applied it with cogent appeals to the heart and con- 
science. There were no grotesque or incongruous 
views expressed to produce amazement or arrest 
attention; no spasmodic sentences^ — the sure evi- 
dence of dislocated and ungoverned thought ; no 
Germanizing of the English language^ in order to 
give the appearance of originality to what was 
spoken; no essayizing of the form of the sermon^ 
by the omission of First ^ Secondly, and Thirdly; 
and no toning down of Scripture terms for sin^ 
wrath^ and hell_, to accommodate polite ears. He 
did not attempt to elaborate and adorn the truth 
until it was hidden and smothered by words of 
man^s wisdom. He did not hang upon the Cross 
garlands of human oratory^ or cover it with the 
tinsel ornaments of tropes and figures. He did not 
mince into feebleness the threatenings and com- 
mandments of the Divine Law. Sinai was a mount 
trodden by him^ as Avell as Calvary; and thun- 
derings and lightnings in his preachings as in the 
Divine manifestations, preceded the proclamations 



9S HIS CHARACTER AS A PREACHER. 

of Almiglity goodness and mercy. The terrors 
of the Lord lie employed for the conviction of 
sin; and then the declarations of the Gospel for 
the healing of wounded souls. He not unfrequently 
set forth stern^ legal views of Divine truth in his 
preaching ; but Christy as a just God and a Sa^iom'^ 
was ever proclaimed faithfully and fully. The 
atonement and the priesthood of Christ; the gloiy 
and extent of His dominion; the gift of the Holy 
Spuit ; and the fulness of all spiritual blessings for 
the believer^ were themes on which he delighted to 
dwell and to expatiate. St. Paul's Epistle to the 
Romans^ which first concludes all under sin^ and 
then declares God's righteous method of justifying 
them that believe in His Son, was his favomite 
section of the word of life. The eighth chapter of 
that Epistle^ which^ in one of his sermons^ he de- 
scribed as being bl catalogue^ or inventory^ of the 
believer^s privileges/^ was exceedingly precious to 
him. He had^ as we have seen, a discriminating 
intellect ; and this was evident in the pulpit as 
elsewhere. Sharp^ fine distinctions characterized all 



HIS CAREFUL PREPARATIONS. 



93 



his speaking. Sometimes^, when preachings he would 
open out a common and familiar word in a text of 
Scripture_, so as to surprise and charm his hearers; 
but he never frittered down a passage into loose and 
unconnected morsels by verbal criticism. He knew 
how^ with a fair and full exposition^, to preserve the 
breadth and entirety of truth. And that truth he 
preached : he proclaimed and published it as a herald^ 
and as an ambassador for God. He did not argue 
and debate upon it^ as if it were of doubtful autho- 
rity. He did not consult men^s taste : he com- 
manded it ; and^ after the manner of his Master^ he 
spake as " one having authority.^^ 

His sermons were carefully prepared and digested 
before he delivered them. He brought no unbeaten 
oil into the sanctuary ; and^ while entirely dependent 
upon God for unction and success^ yet he did not 
trust the composition of his discourses to happy 
frames and impulses : he did not unreasonably look 
for the ability to do suddenly in the pulpit what 
he could not do so well prayerfully and deliberately 
in his study. He practically received the statement^ 



9i 



HIS CAREirL PBEPARATIOXS 



that God's lielp begins Tvliere natui'al means 
can go no farther : and that as far as these means 
are available, we are not warranted to expect extra- 
ordinary help.'" His mind seemed to be imbued with 
theology ; and. like his other possessions of knovv-- 
ledge. this was systematized and fiill-orbed within him. 
He knew of what he spake ; and having carefully 
prepared for the delivery of Divine tmth. he was not 
afraid to reiterate it. He avowedly preached the same 
sermons in different places^ knowing that he had the 
examples of Christ and His Apostles to justify him 
in so doing. Yet. he was no slave to pulpit pre- 
parations. His preaching was from the full devotion 
of his soul, and not merely from his memory : and_, 
therefore^ he left himself fi'ee for enlargement under 
the leadings of the Holy Spirit. And sometimes^ 
like St. Paul; he was ready to preach until mid- 
night. He had no more idea of preaching short, set 
sermons, which should just come vdthin the 
measui'ed thi'ee-fourths of an hour^ and by no 
means exceed that prescribed limit, than had John 
HowC; or E,ichard Baxter^ — two of his favourite 



HIS CHARACTER AS A PREACHER. 



95 



authors in practical theology. Execution was 
his aim; and^ therefore^ he was unwilling to 
cease until he had done what he could to accom- 
plish his object. Indeed^ a ^'^full service might 
always be anticipated where he was to officiate. 
He loved the Methodist Hymn Book^ and gave out 
its verses with the most appropriate tones and 
emphasis. He often quoted from it most aptly 
in his sermons ; and threw^ from its rich treasury 
of Christian doctrine and experience^ helpful light 
upon the truth he was setting forth. He devoutly 
rejoiced in the use of the litm'gy of the Church of 
England during Sabbath-morning service; and he 
never abridged the Scripture lessons to make room 
for his own sermon. As a minister of the sanctuary, 
he did all things reverentially^ so that sometimes the 
public services he conducted were long; but they 
were so impressive and spiritual that few^ if any^ 
who attended them wished them to be shorter. 

From the frequent mention he made of the Eev. 
Joseph Benson^ and from the admiring description 
he was wont to give of that excellent man^ as a 



96 



EFFECT OF HIS PREACHING. 



preacher^ it might almost be inferred that lie was 
thus setting before us his model. But Dr. Bunting^s 
preaching was less critical and expository than Mr. 
Benson^ s^ while it was equally piercing and power- 
ful in application. He was^ in his preaching, no 
slavish imitator of any one : more than most men 
he was his own model, and in this respect called no 
man ^^Habbi.^' 

The effect of his preaching was exceedingly 
powerful. The unction of the Holy Spirit attended 
it, and rendered it signally successful in awakening 
and saving the souls of his hearers. I have heard 
statements concerning the striking results of his 
ministry, from aged Methodists in Leeds, Man- 
chester, and London, that exceeded all I have 
heard of almost any other Methodist preacher. 
There were seasons of grace and salvation under 
his preaching, when large numbers together were 
cut to the heart, and cried out, Men and brethren, 
what shall we do ? One such season in Grosvenor 
Street Chapel, Manchester, will never be forgotten. 
His manner, ordinarily, was not boisterous; but 



HIS MANNER AS A PREACHER. 97 

chastened^ and fully under his control. There was, 
usually^ a serene air about him^ — a peaceful reve- 
rence in his look and demeanour, — when in the 
pulpit, that seemed fully in accordance with a 
Sabbath service, and which compelled the calm and 
serious attention of an assembly to what he said. 
His voice was clear and full, and capable of great 
variety of modulation. His action was as simple 
as it could well be. The left hand usually held the 
nearest corner of the Bible; and the right hand 
was slightly elevated towards the breast, and 
partially open, or otherwise spread horizontally 
over the page. His whole 'manner was calmly con- 
fident and collected. But, when roused to full 
energy under the power of the Holy Spirit, as was 
not unfrequently the case toward the end of his 
sermons, his face would become highly flushed, 
and his personal emotion so strong, that his 
friends feared the effects upon his life. On such 
occasions he would seize the sinner^s conscience, 
and hold it with a firm grasp, while he threatened, 
reasoned, and expostulated; and then close upon 

H 



98 HIS GREATNESS AS A PREACHER. 

the sinner^ with beseecliing and overwhelming 
earnestness, to repent and look to Christ for salva- 
tion. Dr. Leifchild, in the funeral address already 
quoted, expressed the judgment of many, besides 
his own, when he said, I never heard such preach- 
ing before, and I have never heard such preaching 
since.^^ The pulpit was really the throne from 
which this prince of preachers wielded such sur- 
passing influence among roen ; and no minister of 
Christ can rule well in the Church who does not^ 
first, compel the homage of the people by an 
effective ministry in the pulpit. 

Great a preacher, however, as he was himself, 
he despised no one who, according to the wisdom 
given unto him,^^ preached Christ the all-sufficient 
Saviour of sinners. The youngest and most un- 
learned preacher of the Gospel, if simple and 
earnest, would find in him a ready counsellor and 
friend. Ardent, laborious zeal in the cause of God;, 
by whomsoever manifested, had his cheerful com- 
mendation. The Rev. John Smith, whose burning 
zeal for the salvation of men consumed him at an 



HIS REGARD FOR MINISTERIAL CHARACTER. 99 

early age^ had Dr. Bunting^s declaration of fraternal 
admiration and regard when men of lesser minds 
were doubtful as to the propriety of the plans 
of that true Revivalist. Indeed^ reverence and 
love for the ministerial character was a prominent 
trait in him : he regarded it as sacred^ and 
was careful never to depreciate or degrade it by 
any means whatever. And perhaps no presbyter 
of the Church of Christ ever did more to elevate 
and maintain it by his demeanour than he did. He 
loved all his brethren in the ministry^ sympathized 
with them in their toils^ wept with them in their 
sorrows^ rejoiced with them in their triumphs^ and 
was most tenderly and scrupulously careful of their 
reputation and credit. He livedo as it were^ in the 
whole ]Methodist Connexion at home and abroad, 
and that from day to day : so that whatever affected 
his brethren affected him ; and perhaps no man 
since the apostolic age could have used the words 
of St. Paul more comprehensively than he : And 
beside what comes upon me daily^ the care of all 
the Churches.^^ He was one of the best hearers 

H 2 



100 HIS GENEROUS ESTIMATE OF OTHERS. 



of a sermon that a preacher could possibly have ; 
if the aim to do good was evident, the preacher 
would be sure to have from him an expression of 
approval. I have spent many a long Sabbath 
evening with him_, towards the end of his life, when 
lie was not able to preach twice a day himself^ and 
have heard his opinion of preachers vrithont num- 
ber; and_, vrith one solitary exception^ — when a 
young candidate for the muiistry had preached 
about the stars^ before him^ — I do not remember a 
word of disapproval^ or of depreciatoiy criticism 
upon any sermon he had heard. He had always 
some good things to say of the preacher, and none 
that were evil. He was no detractor from the merits 
of his brethren ; and was utterly free from the mean 
envy which grudges words of praise for others^ and 
claims all for self. He was a generous, noble^ mag- 
nanimous servant of the Lord^ seeing and acknow- 
ledging variety and usefulness in all God^s works 
and instruments^ and rejoicing to see able and 
successful labourers springing forth and increasing 
around him. 



HIS FAITHFULNESS AS A PASTOR. 



101 



As a Minister put in charge with circuits at home^ 
and afterwards as a secretary intrusted with the 
oversight of Missionaries and their infant Churches 
abroad^ he was able and faithful. His holy soul 
shrunk from sin ; and therefore he would not tole- 
rate it anywhere. Yet^ if there were signs of genuine 
repentance in any who had fallen^ he was ready to 
restore them in the spirit of meekness. His vene- 
ration for the aged^ and his love for the youngs were 
alike remarkable. He breasted a tide of tumultu- 
ous opposition to secure the exclusion of secular 
instruction from Sabbath schools^ and sought to 
have the lambs of the flock ^^fed after their man- 
ner.^^ Few ministers in Methodism have baptized 
more infants than he ; and many parents and mem- 
bers of congregations will long remember the earnest^ 
impressive addresses he delivered to them on the 
administration of that sacrament. He was a scrip- 
tural bishop^ who took care of the whole flock over 
which God had made him overseer ; and his written 
thoughts on pastoral duties^ contained in what ai^e 
called the Liverpool Minutes/^ — in his Instruc- 



102 HIS PRACTICAL BUSINESS TALENT. 

tions to Missionaries/^ — as well as in his Presi- 
dential charges to newly received Ministers^ show 
how deep^ comprehensive^ and earnest^ were his 
views and feelings in relation to the office of a 
Christian shepherd. 

Any sketch of Dr. Bunting would be incomplete 
and disappointing^ if it did not make reference to 
his practical business talent y and especially to his 
surpassing power in debate. Like all first-class 
minds^ his was variously great. It was impossible 
to see him engaged in any manner without perceiv- 
ing his superiority. Indeed^ it was the harmonious 
combination of so many high qualities in him that 
gave him such decided pre-eminence ; so that they 
who observed him carefully were often heard to say 
that^ with his various talents^ he must have been 
great in anything he had undertaken. His was a 
thoroughly practical English mind : he could not 
squander existence in Coleridgean dreaminess and 
useless speculation ; he must be active in himself, 
and see the realization of his plans, in order to be 



HIS POWER AND MANNER IN DEBATE. 103 

happy. But his ready and mighty intelligence was 
most apparent in debate^ and especially in reply; 
and they who never heard him in public discussion 
on an important subject cannot estimate aright his 
transcendent ability. In Committee and in Con- 
ference ordinarily he was chary of his remarks. He 
sought; now and then^ by a few words^ gently to 
guide the opinions of others^ rather than to control 
and govern them^ — thus giving others to feel^ as much 
as possible^ that they were really performing the 
work to be done^ rather than doing it under his 
direction; and knowing that frequent and unim- 
portant speeches are regarded by men of business as 
vexatious^ and that the uttering of them would 
surely result in a loss of influence. And if he 
spoke for more than five minutes^ it would be when 
nearly all had spoken who were disposed to speak_, 
and that to harmonize the discordant opinions^ allay 
any perturbation of feeling, or to settle at once the 
question under consideration. But if any important 
measure were strenuously opposed, then the giant 
was roused to put forth all his might, and he came 



104 HIS POWER AND MANNER IN DEBATE. 

forth upon the opponents with tremendous force. 
While the adverse speeches were being made, he 
would sit and listen most attentively, — bowing his 
head forward, now and then, — and, perhaps, en- 
closing his ear in his hand, that he might be sure to 
hear all that was spoken ; and, if he took any notes 
at all, they would be the merest jottings on the back 
of a letter with a pocket-pencil. Then, when all 
others taking part in the discussion had spoken, he 
would rise, and answer all that had been said, in the 
most orderly and complete manner possible. As it 
appeared to others, if he had been allowed weeks 
for the review of what had been advanced, and for 
preparing his answer, the reply could not have been 
given more satisfactorily and fully than when it was 
given thus instantly and extemporaneously. 

He usually commenced his reply by guarding 
the subject under consideration, and his views 
concerning it, from misunderstanding and abuse. 
He then accepted what had been said by any pre- 
ceding speakers, so far as it would strengthen his 
own position; and, not unfrequently, he would 



HIS POWER AND MANNER IN DEBATE. 105 

speak in complimentary terms of the spirit and 
manner which the opponents had displayed in 
stating their objections. But after this^ and after 
giving reasons for the view he himself held, he 
would not unfrequently come down upon both the 
speakers and their arguments with crushing power, 
so that you wondered how those who were receiving 
such heavy and fast-falling blows could survive 
them ; and you perceived that all felt they could 
breathe more freely when they had heard all he was 
disposed to say concerning themselves^ and what 
they had been advancing. If any great essential 
principle of Methodism had been assailed or brought 
into question, or if anything had been proposed that 
savoured of selfishness, he would be sure to strike 
hard and heavy blows; and some words of sharp 
rebuke would be spoken that would long be remem- 
bered. Whoever touched any of the essential ele- 
ments of Methodism touched the very apple of his 
eye ; and in the protection of Methodism, and its 
defence, he spared neither friends nor foes : the 
conservation and welfare of the cause of Christ 



106 HIS EARNEST PROMOTION OF PROGRESS. 

was dearer to him than any friends ; and this was 
manifest in all he said and did. When roused^ he 
was bold and courageous as a lion^ for truth and 
righteousness : the most formidable and threaten- 
ing opposition would not make him quail ; and^ 
like Luther^ he would have breasted confederated 
hosts. 

But while thus resolutely conservative of great 
and essential principles in Methodism^ he was^ from 
the beginning of his public life^ as we have seen^ an 
earnest and persevering advocate for its progress 
and development. As one has said^ " It is a fact 
but little known^ and^ by those who have been accus- 
tomed to hear this great man railed at as a priestly 
dictator^ not even suspected_, that nearly every mea- 
sure which has popularized the institutions of 
Methodism^ and which has given to the people a 
more liberal representation^ has originated with Dr. 
Bunting.^^ He led the way in all plans for the real 
advancement of Methodism^ keeping it safe from 
the furious rush of democracy on the one hand^ and 
the corrupting tendencies of high ecclesiasticism 



HIS TRUE CATHOLICISM. 



107 



on the other ; and lie was never satisfied with its 
working, either at home or abroad, if it did not 
make distinct and positive inroad upon the dominion 
of Satan and the world. 

And though so devoted and attached a Methodist, 
yet his heart was large and catholic in its sympa- 
thies towards all the various sections of the Church 
of Christ. He venerated the Church of England as 
the mother Church of Methodism ; he praised Non- 
conformists for their conscientious resistance of 
oppression, and for their persevering struggles for 
liberty to serve God ; he sympathized with the Free 
Church of Scotland in its struggle for spiritual free- 
dom, and aided it in its endeavours to cast oflF the yoke 
of secular authority. He loved all of every name that 
called upon the Lord Jesus Christ for salvation ; and 
he was ready to associate with them in plans of philan- 
thropy and benevolence, so far as circumstances would 
allow. He loved the name of Christian more than 
the name of Methodist ; and was too large-hearted 
to suppose that pure and undefiled religion was only 
to be found within the pale of his own Church. 



108 



HIS ENDURANCE OF EVIL. 



It was too mucli to expect that one so pre- 
eminently great and good should escape reproach 
and persecution ; but he proved himself able, 
through Divine grace, to suffer for Christ, as 
well as to speak and to labour for Him. Perhaps 
no distinguished member of the Church of God in 
modern times has been more violently assailed, or 
more grossly misrepresented, in his character, plans, 
and motives, than J abez Bunting ; and yet he was not 
careful to answer what was said or written against 
him. He had the unquailing boldness and fortitude 
of a martyr for the cause of Christ ; but his own re- 
putation he nobly left to uphold and support itself as 
it might. Between others and himself personally he 
left God to defend the right. If Shimei cursed him, 
he let his enemy curse on; and still pursued his 
own course of Christian labour. He lived down 
calumny and reproach by a holy and unblameable 
life of consistent goodness; and he was spared to 
see the Jerusalem that he loved become a peaceful 
and a prosperous habitation. And if he be the 
strongest man who can bear the heaviest weight 



BECOMES A SUPERNUMERARY. 109 



without staggering^ then^ in tHs view also^ Dr. 
Bunting was strong and great. 

In the earlier part of his ministry^ he was thin 
and somewhat weak in his bodily frame ; and there 
were times when both he and his friends feared 
that his life would be prematurely cut short by his 
earnest labours. He was a hard student^ and some- 
times drew largely upon the night for reading, 
thought^ and pulpit preparation. His connexional 
services were incessant^ and his efforts in preaching 
greatly exhausted him. But his strength increased 
as he advanced to maturity ; and though in the lat- 
ter period of his life he was seldom free from bodily 
weakness or pain^ yet his continuance upon earth, 
until his eightieth year, proves that his physical 
constitution was, on the whole, sound and good. 

At the Conference of 1849, he retired from the 
full duties of his office, and became a supernume- 
rary. But, after this, his presence, counsel, and 
advocacy were sought, and found to be most 
valuable, in the several departments of Methodism. 



110 



HIS SERVICE IN OLD AGE. 



As long as his bodily strength would allow him to 
attend^ and to exercise his rare and precious gifts, 
he was seen in the Annual Conference of his bre- 
thren ; and in the numerous Committee meetings in 
London ; as well as in the pulpit and on the plat- 
form. To the end of his days his strong and 
vigorous understanding did not forsake him : he 
used to complain repeatedly to his friends^ that his 
memory failed him^ and that he was not able,, as 
aforetime^ to think connectedly ; but there was lit- 
tle evidence of this to them. His remembrance of 
minute and particular circumstances, of persons and 
things, was, as ever, marvellous; and he could still 
take clear and comprehensive views of measures, 
though it was, of course, with greater effort, and it 
was followed by greater exhaustion. Methodist 
friends in London will remember that when, as he 
was pleased to say, he was no longer able to make 
a speech,^^ he took the chair at their several mis- 
sionary meetings, and graced the platform by his 
venerable figTire. His last missionary sermon — 
preached in the Centenary Hall, Bishopsgate, in 



HIS VIEWS OF THE APPROACH OF DEATH. Ill 

April. 1852_, and which he read for a while^ until 
he broke away from the manuscript^ and poured forth 
his heart and mind in extempore sentences — will 
never be forgotten by Methodists of the present gene- 
ration who heard him. And that scene in Exeter 
Hall^ whem on his last appearance on oui^ missionary 
platform there^ in May^ 1857^ the whole multitude 
at the annual meeting rose en masse, spontaneously, 
to greet him, as he stood up to speak, will never be 
eflPaced from any mind upon which it was then 
imprinted. His interest in the work of God re- 
mained to the end of his life unabated ; and, as far 
as he had strength, he gave it for the promotion of 
the cause of his Eedeemer. 

On reaching the age of threescore and ten, he 
evidently realized the shortening of his days ; and 
he spoke seriously to his family and friends of his 
arrival at the assigned limit of human Hfe. At the 
death of Robert Xewton, his friend and contempo- 
rary in the ministry, he spoke still more earnestly 
on this subject; and those who knew him intimately, 
and observed him closely^ will remember a period 



112 



HIS LAST SERMON. 



when lie began to utter every word and perform every 
act^ as it were^ witli eternity immediately before 
him. A sleepless guard seemed placed over his 
every step ; and he lived with the constant re- 
membrance that he might die at any moment. 
During the last two or three years^ bodily infirmities 
had so increased upon him that he could take little 
share in any public duties. And^ though he loved 
life and enjoyed it^ he was wilhng to sink back into 
retirement and see others perform the services which 
had formerly devolved upon himself. He was cheer- 
fully contented with his lot ; and said that he had 
had his own day of service^ and must now leave 
active employment to others. 

His last sermon was preached for me^ at Brixton^ in 
the Lambeth Circuity on Sunday Mornings Septem- 
ber the 3rd^ 1854^ from the ninth verse of the first 
chapter in the First Epistle of St. John : If we con- 
fess our sins^ He is faithful and just to forgive us 
our sins^ and to cleanse us from all unrighteous- 
ness ; and it was accompanied with special unction 
from above. Like the beloved Apostle when he 



HIS LAST SERMON. 



113 



wrote the text^ tlie preacher of that morning was 
full of years and full of grace ; and he spoke as a 
loving father to his children on the faithfulness and 
justice of God^ in pardoning and purifying the 
guilty and polluted souls of penitent^ believing sin- 
ners. Before he commenced his sermon^ he was 
timid with the apprehension that he would not be 
able to proceed with it; for^ on the previous oc- 
casion of his attempting to preach, (which was at 
Loughborough^ in Leicestershire^) he lost the power 
of audible speech before he reached the end of his 
discourse. But^ at Brixton^ his voice was good^ and 
his articulation clear and distinct ; and he afterwards 
rejoiced in the remembrance that he had^ once 
more^ preached Christ. He had often said that 
preaching was his most delightful work^ and so he 
found it in his last sermon. His last public minis- 
terial service was that of baptizing the infant child 
of Professor Williamson^ (the grand- child of his 
friend, the late Kev. Robert Wood,) in Oxford Road 
Chapel, Manchester. 

Previous to the Conference of 1857, when laden 



114 HIS MESSAGE TO THE CONFERENCE. 

with domestic sorrow^ I visited him for his fatherly 
sympathy and counsel. I found him manifestly 
more feeble and infirm than when I had seen him 
a few weeks before. He was confined to his studv/' 
and was reclining on a sofa near the fire-place. We 
conversed^ prayed^ and wept together; and when I 
left him to return home^ and received from him a 
token of paternal affection, sorrowing most of all 
for the words he spake/^ that we might not meet 
again on earthy it was with the memorable words of 
David for Jonathan^ passing and repassing through 
my mind : Very pleasant hast thou been to me : 
thy love to me was wonderful ; passing the love of 
women.^^ He was not able to attend the Con- 
ference in Liverpool,, but sent from his home in 
Myddelton Square^ London^ an affectionate message 
to his assembled brethren^ by his friend and neigh- 
bour^ Dr. Hoole^ — assuring them that he should die 
in the faith of evangelical Arminianism ; that his 
attachment to Methodism^ its doctrines and disci- 
pline^ was thorough and unabated ; and requesting 
their prayers to God for him^ that he might have a 



HIS LAST VISITS FROM HOME. 



115 



peaceful end. A letter was sent to liim from the Cou- 
ference^ expressing the prayerful sympathy and reve- 
rential love of the brethren towards him ; and his heart 
was filled with grateful pleasiu'e by the reading of it. 
After this^ he visited Buxton. Bath^ and Manchester, 
and obtained partial relief ; but he now abandoned all 
hope of again taking a part in public exercises^ and 
said — his icork was done. On his return^ he 
was confined to his house^ being unable any more 
to attend public worship. But^, in his arm-chair by 
the fire-side^ he was still the same sociable^ cheer- 
ful^ and companionable husband^ father^ and friend ; 
he still showed unabated interest in the cause of 
God; and^ as readily as ever^ gave his counsel to 
those that waited upon him for it. After this^ he 
suflfered severely from influenza ; and for the last 
seven months of his life was confined to his bed- 
room. In the day-time^ he sat in an easy chair at 
the foot of the bed^ partially leaning on the bed for 
support^ and nm-sing his ann^ which continuously 
sufl'ered acute pain. I saw him in that state in 
February last^ when I slept at his house^ and had 

I 2 



116 CONCERN FOR THE RISING MINISTRY. 

long conversations with liim on tte state and pro- 
spects of tlie Connexion^, and on his own spiritual 
experience. He rejoiced greatly at the good news 
reported to him of the conversion of sinners, and 
exclaimed fervently as he heard it^ Praise the 
Lord I He expressed deep concern for the rising 
ministry among us_, that it should be preserved — 
amidst the errors and extravagancies of the times 
— evangelical and soul-saving in its character. He 
spoke on the great importance to Methodism of the 
proper training of candidates for its ministry at the 
Theological Institution^ and of his own grateful 
feeling for the devoted and faithful labours in its 
two branches by its Tutors and Officers. He 
also spoke at length upon the importance of our 
people maintaining family religion and worship ; and 
related how^ in the days of Butterworth, Bulmer^ 
and others whom he named, Methodist parents, 
in their social and neighbourly visits, would, if 
remaining to supper, leave the company for a time 
in the evening, go to their own homes for family 
worship, and then return to sup with their friends. 



1 



TRUST FOR FUTURE METHODISM. 117 

Now^ towards the end of life^ as aforetime^ he 
was not anxious concerning the Methodism of the 
future/^ nor disposed to foretel what it would be. 
His principle through life had been^ to perform pre- 
sent duty^ and leave events with God. It was so 
still: he committed Methodism and its interests 
unreservedly to the Divine keepings and left all con- 
fidently there. And it was so with himself: refer- 
ring to his own weak and afflicted condition^ he said^ 
with a peaceful smile which spread its radiance over 
his fine^ fatherly countenance^ I am in the hands 
of the Lord^ and am waiting till my change come ! 
He declared his only trust to be in the all-sufficient 
atonement of Christ_, and affirmed^ emphatically^ I 
have peace ! Indeed^ it was impossible to be with 
him in his last affliction^ and not see how harmo- 
niously his Christian graces were adjusting them- 
selves in the furnace, and how fully patience was 
havings in him, her perfect work. There was entire 
resignation to the Divine will for longer continuance 
on earth, while there were also meek and longing 
looks cast at times towards the heavenly land. 



118 



nsiTEB BY BISHOP SIXPSON. 



And none who visited him in his chamber^ and 
beheld him leaning, with pain in his arm^ on ihe 
chair or tlie end of the bed, — and with his 
eomelv face bordered by the black velvet cap 
which he wore in his latter days, — conld Ml to 
be deeply impressed with that pictme of patiiaichdi 
snbniissiveness. 

At Lis own request; I invited Bishop Simpson, 
from America, who had expressed a wish to see him, 
to visit liim that day. At the interview which fol- 
lowed, lie inquired with deep interest into the st^.:e 
of religion and of Methodism on the A- r vj. : n- 
tinent : spoke of what he had seen :: Pr, Ci'-ii. 
firs: }iv :h 5^ s: ishop there j relsii: :hr i^^ 
of Kis mother, through the prearhir.^- :: J.::i.i::i 
Boardman: and how he himsTi: the i.ame of 

Jabez^ from the text taken at ^Mrn^ask. He :ken 
had brought np ki-i:, m kis kea-r::m, ::r kie 
bishop to see. Mr. Eniimin's r-rn s:if. "k::k the 
ithierant Missionary had nsc:. m ^ r-ame^m^' :var 
America., and sent as a cymg ':a:-aas: :a :na a, :::r. 
and in token of affectionate re£:ard. 



HIS APPROACHING END. 



119 



I saw Dr. Bunting again at the beginning of May- 
last^ just after lie had had an alarming bleeding in 
the mouth. He looked pale and wasted^ and was 
suffering excmciating pain in his left arm ; but 
there was still the same peaceful smile upon his 
countenance ; and^ as I approached him^ he said, 
^^I am glad to see you once more^ for I am near 
the end of my days.^^ Increasing weakness^ as well 
as pain^ was pressing him down to deaths so that he 
could say but little of anything that did not refer 
immediately to his own state. He declared himself 
to have a safe and settled trust in the atonement 
and mediation of Christ ; and he was stilly as ever, 
fervent in his responses to prayer, strong in his 
friendship, and full of blessings for absent ones that 
were named. 

In this state of calm and confident repose in the 
merits of the Saviour he continued till death. It 
was evident to those who knew him intimately, and 
heard him speak minutely of the symptoms of his 
soul, that he watched its moods and exercises very 
carefully, as it approached nearer and nearer the 



120 



HIS THOROUGH HUMILITY. 



eternal world. He had spent his long life of service 
in tlie Church, and had preached to others the sup- 
ports and comforts of religion for death ; and he 
waited now to see how it would be with himself. 
A man of his seriousness^ thought^ and reliectiou^. 
could not descend inconsiderately towards the gates 
of the grave ; and Lis own deep sense of unworthiness 
prevented him from cherishing the expectation of a 
triumphant end. T\'ith the thorough humility of a 
large and reflective mind^ he seemed to view the weight 
of glory which is sometimes vouchsafed to the dying 
Christian^ as being beyond what he ought to think 
of^ or pray for^. as a triumph to be realized in his 
own personal experience, Hence he said to a friend, 
^^My prayer is, that a life of mercy may be crowned, 
I will not say with a triumphant, but with a peaceful 
end.' ' At another time, he expressed the wish of 
the poet of Methodism as his own, that he might 
^' catch a look from Christ/" and then drop into 
eternity .^^ His prayer was answered : his wish was 
realized. He had, at the end of life, peace : Christ 
did look upon him as he passed into eternity. 



HIS DREAD OF SFLF-COXFIDENCE. 



121 



The Eev. WiUiam INI. Bunting has supplied us 
with full evidence of this^ in the yery beautiful 
and minute memorial of his father's last vears^ 
which was read by Dr. Hannah at the close of 
a funeral sermon preached for Dr. Buntings the 
other Sabbath^ before the family in Islington Chapel. 
Mr. William M. Bunting relates that when^ in the 
winter of 1856^ he was summoned to his father^s 
house^ because of an alarming seizure which threat- 
ened deaths his father said to Him^ W'eli^ William, 
I want to teU you that when I was seized the other 
day with that which probably was premoniton" of 
my end, I felt no panic, — through mercy, no panic ; 
but I felt, and feel, that it is a yery solemn thing 
to die.'' His sensitively meek and lowly mind, 
however, shrunk from the least danger of self- 
confidence in connection with the saying, guarded 
as it was ; for the next morning, when ^Ir. William 
was departing for home, the father had his son 
recalled to his room, and thus anxiously referred 
to what he had said on the preceding day : I 
have been uneasy lest, in what I said to you last 



122 WEIGHED DOWN BY AFFLICTION. 

evening of my comfortable state of mind^ I should 

have spoken in any degree boastfully I wish you 

to understand/^ he added^ with emphasis^, that my 
only rest^ my only hope^ is in the mercy of God 
through Christ/^ 

His emotional experience was undoubtedly 
affected — and that considerably — by his severe and 
wearisome bodily afflictions and infirmities. For 
months before his deaths he ate his food with great 
difficulty: and he t^s unable^ from the failure of 
physical organs^ to take as much nutriment as his 
bodily constitution required. His sleep^ too^ was 
very much broken; and both by day and night he 
suffered^ almost unceasingly^ the most irritating 
and acute pains from tic doloureux and from 
rheumatism. And as might be expected^ the mind 
— sympathizing with the body in its sufferings^ 
and groaning under the burden of the falling taber- 
nacle — sometimes sank down into pensive serious- 
ness and depressing reflections. But in all that he 
had to endure^ he held fast his confidence in the 
saving mercy of God to him through Jesus Christy 



HIS NAKED TRUST IN CHRIST. 



123 



though it was^ as Fletcher has expressed it, by na- 
ked faith in a naked promise/^ In doing this^ he 
proved his mature strength as a Christian behever ; 
illustrated in himself the great doctrine of salvation 
through faith alone which he had so perseveringlv 
preached; and became an encouraging example to 
those saints of God who have not in their afflictions 
as much of the sensible enjoyment of religion as 
they could desire. His experience in death was^ 
in fact^ the solemn and impressive Amen/^ which 
consistently terminated the principle and profession 
of his Christian life. It was that of entire renuncia- 
tion of all reliance upon the works of the law for 
justification^ and of pure^ simple faith in the Lord 
Jesus Christ for salvation. Hence to IMr. William 
M, Bunting he remarked^ after an observation had 
been made upon his patient endurance of affliction, 
"I have nothing but ^a naked faith.' There is 
danger in the doctrine of a naked faith^ — but it is 
my experience. I hope I am right.'' And on his 
son assuring him that he was right, and proceeding 
to remind him how the Divine Atonement, and 



124 HIS RESOLUTE AXD PERSE^TERTNG EAITH. 

simple trust in it, magnified the law and made it 
honourable, while reliance upon works lowered and 
dishonoui'ed it. he replied quicklv. 0. as to tlicit^'^ 
(referring to reliance upon works.: "^'I never give 
place to it for a moment : it is a hopeless delusion.** 
Afterwards, when spoken to by the same dear rela- 
tive on his state of spiritual feeling, he answered^ 
^'I have no enjoyment but in an obstinate faith — 
only in an obstinate faith/'* he repeated with serious 
emphasis. To his second son. ^Ir. Percival 
Bunting, who^ on approaching his bed-side, ob- 
served^ ^° You are very ilL Father, but I hope that 
youi' mind is composed : ^* he responded. Yes^ but it 
is the tranquillity of faith, and nothing more.'"' T\'hen 
Mrs. Bunting, who. with his only surviving daugh- 
ter. Miss Emma Bunting, had ministered to him 
so tenderly dui"ing his last years of increasing 
infirmities, had read as far as that part of the hymn 
in the Supplement where the line occurs^— 

•''Simplv to Tliv cross I cling,''' — 

he remarked^ That is just my state of mind.'^ 



HIS LAST WEEK. 



125 



And when the fight of faith was over^ and he 
knew that the victory was won^ still his trust was 
avowedly ia the mercy of God to him as a penitent 
sinner believing in Clirist ; for then he remarked 
solemnly^ I am a sinner saved by grace/^ 

During the last week of his life he experienced 
more of the peace and joy of believing. The vio- 
lence of his bodily pains had subsided^ and his soul^ 
after its severe conflict^ lay becalmed in the bosom 
of its Divine Saviour^ realizing the truths that they 
who believe do enter into rest.^^ He was no longer able 
to sit up in his chair^ but sank exhausted through the 
extreme heat of the season in his bed^ as if ready to 
fall asleep in Jesus at any moment. He spoke but 
at intervals^ and that faintly. He dozed at times 
upon his pillow ; and as he woke up from soft,, re- 
freshing slumbers^ he smiled upon the friends watch- 
ing around him^ — expressed by his looks from one 
to the other his loving recognition of their presence, 
— and then, with eyes uplifted to heaven, invoked 
the Divine blessing upon them. Indeed, that last 
week of his life on earth is described by his family 



126 



HIS LAST WEEK. 



as one of sabbatic and heavenly peacefolness : 

and his death-chamber is spoken of by those who 
were privileged to enter it. as being consciously to 
them none other than the house of God and the 
gate of heaven.'' A Divine sacredness seemed to per- 
vade and nil it : and. amidst the supernatural se- 
renity of the place, there were tho"a : r of terror, 
nor hardly of soitow, but of angelic ''watchers/*' 
who, with viewless forms and noiseless wings, were 
thi-on2:in2: the scene, and waiting: to convey their 
precious charge to Abraham's bosom. His words 
were few, but they were confident and even joyous. 
At the beginning of the week he had sent for 
his eldest son; and said that he hud ''repose in 
a passive faith. And when, in consia::: a.: .:, of the 
bodily weakness and pains which had weighed down 
his spirit and prevented lively exercises, that son 
suggested to him that he could love Jesus now^ and 
praise Him when he should get to heaven, he 
answered_ instantly, ^'1 can praise Him now.*' 
When his devoted daughter inquiringly observed to 
her father, ^' You are quite happy ? '* he replied 



HIS LAST WORDS. 



127 



earnestly, Yes : peaceful and perfectly satisfied. 
My anchor is surely cast within the vail.^' To his old- 
est friend, the Rev. Thomas Jackson, who approached 
his bed with the cheering words, Covenant mercies ! 
everlasting mercies ! mercies sealed to you by the 
precious blood of Christ ! he responded as loudly 
as possible with his failing voice, Whose glorious 
mercies never end ! And when Mr. Jackson de- 
parted from him on that day, he whispered emphati- 
cally to his friend, Perfect peace ! Two days 
afterwards, Mr. Jackson visited him again, and 
descanted on the theme of a free salvation and the 
sympathy of Christ with suffering saints ; and the 
doctor, whose voice was becoming every hour weaker 
and weaker, exclaimed distinctly and fervently, It 
is glorious'/^ His prayer for a peaceful end was 
answered, and more than answered. The Captain 
of his salvation did smile upon him as he went 
down alone into the valley to meet the last enemy. 
Rising from calm tranquillity and passive faith into 
holy exultation, he exclaimed, in the hearing of his 
medical attendant, Mr. Buxton, I have fought it 



138 



HIS DEATH. 



good figlit/^ And when on the failure of his voice 
that Christian friend quoted for him the remaining 
words^ — I have finished my course^ I have kept the 
faith ; henceforth there is laid up for me a crown of 
righteousness^ which the Lord^ the righteous Judge^ 
shall give me at that day/^ his face beamed with the 
radiance of grateful and joyous triumph. So that, 
most appropriately, he who now represents his 
father^s honoured name in the Methodist ministry, 
breathed into the ear of the departing Christian 
conqueror the exultant words, Victory, victory, 
through the blood of the Lamb ! He fell on 
sleep in death, at noon of Wednesday, June 16th, 
1858. 

His FuNEKAL took place at the City Road Chapel 
burial-ground, on the Tuesday following his death, 
June 22nd; and was truly solemn and impressive 
in its circumstances. Some time before he died, he 
requested that whenever his funeral might occur, 
it might be plain and private. He also strictly 
enjoined that the funeral expenses might be defrayed 



HIS FUNERAL. 



129 



out of his own means^ and not from any public funds 
of the Connexion. But while^ by resolute adherence 
to his injunction as to the defrayment of expenses^ 
the family buried him themselves^ yet a private 
funeral for one so largely beloved and honoured 
in Methodism could not be had. Friends and 
brethren came spontaneously from all parts of the 
kingdom to attend it. Committees with which he 
had been associated arranged to meet and attend 
his remains to the grave. The most honourable 
representatives were appointed by the Committees 
of the Evangelical Alliance^ the British and Foreign 
Bible Society^ and the Churchy London^ Baptist^ 
and Moravian Missionary Societies^ to take their 
places in the funeral procession. The more wealthy 
of the London Methodists followed voluntarily in 
their own private caiTiages the sixteen mom^ning 
coaches of the family and invited friends ; while the 
middle classes and the poor of our people thronged 
the avenues and square around the doctor^ s house 
at Pentonville ; lined the sides of the long thorough- 
fare of City Road ; and filled the chapel, and its 

K 



130 



HIS FUNERAL. 



yard in front. One hundred and fifty ministers and 
influential laymen of the Alethodist body^ walking 
in paii^S; met the funeral cortege on its way fi'om 
Myddelton Square ; and then, tiu'ning^ preceded it 
to the burial-ground : so that the funeral^ in its long 
line of moiu'ners. and multitude of saddened attend- 
ants^ produced a sensation even in busy London 
itself^ and of necessity became public. 

The Eev. Dr. Hannah received the body at the 
chapel-door, and read, in solemn and impressive tones^ 
as it was borne up the aisle^ the inti'oductory 
sentences from the Biuial Seiwice of the Chiu'ch of 
England^ while hundreds of eyes began to fill with 
tears. The corpse was preceded by the officiating 
ministers. — all of whom are^ more or less^ white 
with age^ — and was placed^ with its dark pall^ higher 
than the pews, in front of the monument to the 
doctors friend. — Kichard T\'atson. The seats in 
the lower part of the chapel were occupied by the 
family^ the invited friends of the deceased^ and the 
official mourners : while the enormous crowd, clothed 
voluntarily in mourning, filled the gallery, the stair- 



HIS FUNERAL. 



131 



cases^ and the aisles. Dr. Hannah read^ from the 
pulpit^ the proper Psalms and Lesson for the occa- 
sions—the Rev. John Farrar^ Superintendent of the 
City Eoad Circuit,, leading the responses from the 
reading-desk below. The Rev. John Bowers then 
ascended the pulpit^ and^ after giving out two verses 
of an appropriate hymn^ offered an earnest and 
comprehensive prayer. The Rev. John Scott next 
delivered an address on the character of the 
deceased^— marked by that acute analysis and wise 
simplicity and religious tone which distinguish his 
addresses. Afterwards^ the venerable Dr. Leifchild^ 
with his snow-white head, ascended the pulpit, and 
gave out, with deep and tremulous emotion, — 

" When from flesh the spirit freed. 
Hastens homeward to return. 
Mortals cry, * A man is dead ! ' 
Angels sing, ' A child is born ! ' 

" Born into the world above. 

They our happy brother greet ; 
Bear him to the throne of love, 
Place him at the Saviom-'s feet ! 
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132 



HIS FUNERAL* 



"Jesus smiles, and says, 'Well done, 
Good and faithful servant thou ! 
Enter, and receive thy crown ! 
Reign with Me triumphant now !' " 

Words cannot describe the thrilling and mingled 
emotion of love^ sadness^ jojr^ and spiritual 
exultation^ with which these beautiful lines were 
sung by that crowded assembly. And when the 
minister of almost fourscore years spoke^ from the 
• pulpit^ ' with a gushing heart and a countenance 
kindled into radiant expression^ of his own personal 
remembrances of his long-known friend^-— of his 
blooming hope of their soon meeting again in 
heaven^— and exclaimed with fervour^ 0^ joyous 
meeting'/^ hundreds burst into happy weepings 
and sobbed out their feelings aloud. The Rev, John 
Farrar then gave out the last two verses of the New 
Yearns hymn^ commencing^ ^^O that each in the 
day/^ &c. : after which^ the Rev. Dr. Dixon^ with 
his fine classic head also crowned with the glory of 
old age/^ entered the black-draped reading-desk; 
and^ with his lustrous but, alas ! in late years, 



HIS FUNERAL. 



133 



sightless eye-balls raised to heaven^ oflfered^ with 
the visions of anticipated glory fresh upon his 
kindling soul^ the concluding prayer. 

The bodily remains of the beloved and departed 
one were then (after some three hours^ service in the 
chapel) slowly borne down the aisle to their last 
resting-place^ and committed to the deep family 
vault at the entrance of the graveyard, by the Eev. 
Dr. Hoole. And when Mr. Farmer, leaning for 
support on the arm of the Incumbent of Clerkenwell, 
(the Rev. R. Maguire,) drew near to the grave^ and 
cast into it dust from the ground^ s surface to mingle 
with the precious dust below, strong emotions were 
felt by all who thronged that solemn and farewell 
scene. Heavy with sorrowful feeling, the multitude 
slowly dispersed, each ready to say to the gazing 
persons he passed at the outer gate of the chapel- 
yard, ^^Know ye not that there is a prince and a 
great man fallen this day in Israel ? 

It had been the long-cherished desire of Dr. 
Bunting to be interred, at his death, in the buiial 
ground of City Road Chapel, where rest in solemn 



134 



HIS INTEKMZNT. 



sepulture the bodies of Wesley, Bradbum. Benson, 

Clarke; Watson, and others of the mighty dead in 
Methodism; f ":his obiect he had. at his first 

wife's death; in 1835; provided there a family yanlt 
and tomb. The sanitary laws had since closed tliat 
crowded graveyaj^d. But. gi^eatly to the doctors relief^ 
the Home Secretary; on being memorialized some 
months previously; : ^rately granted a 

special licence for his mterment there ; so that after 
he had ' ' served his generation by the will of God; 
and had fallen asleep; he was laid to his fathers.'' 
The signs of mourning for his c ^ \'^ve spread 
thj^^oughout the land. Alany of the puipits in ^Meth- 
odism are now clothed in " hi seraions 

have been preached for him m Lonuun. oy the Rev. 
Thomas Jackson and Dr. Hannah: and in m' ■ f 
the cities and towns of the kingdom his death has 
been improved by his ministerial brethi^en. ^'He. 
being dead; yet speaketh I and his remembered 
example of consecrated activity and energy e::^ 
upon us to ''work while it is celled to-day \ 

LONDON: — PRINTED BY WELLlAi: M :::i5, LOyi' C : -^AXi. 



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